


In The Dark I See

by liziscribbles



Series: Darkness Around The Sun [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Persona Fusion, Loqi is a bit of a douche, Multi, Promptis is the major ship here and I'm not even sorry, Slow Burn, an alarmingly slow burn actually, bad dad!Verstael, big brother Loqi, glasses!prompto, socially anxious!prompto, this is a huge deal for me okay?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-09-27 13:05:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 166,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10021934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liziscribbles/pseuds/liziscribbles
Summary: Hour 25 was incredibly dangerous. Not only did the daemons reach theirmostvicious, but all sorts of technology—unless specifically developed by certain scientists in Gralea—stopped working. Humans who were unable to function turned into crystals, completely defenseless against the daemons.In an Eos without royalty, but still ravaged by daemons, the only ones who can properly protect the world are a group of twenty-somethings with absolutelyno cluewhat's going on.(Persona fusion AU.  Persona elements are very altered, and explained enough to make it friendly to those who haven't played!)





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been cultivating in my head since I spotted a post on tumblr with all of the FFXV characters assigned to a SMT-verse Arcana! I have a whole lot of background info plotted, and _some_ of it explained [here](http://heyjealousyyy.tumblr.com/post/157198966555/promptis-persona-au)!
> 
> As usual, thanks go to [IntoThePensive](http://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoThePensive) and [nicoleiacross](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/pseuds/nicoleiacross) for the encouragement and idea bouncing! Love you two!

_Investigate, but don't engage._

Orders were clear, but Noctis Lucis Caelum still felt a little bit of unease as the train drove from Altissia to Piztala Beach. He didn't generally like being out this close to midnight without some kind of backup, but Cor had insisted that Luna was tired and needed to rest, and that he needed Nyx and Crowe with him, to help with a murder investigation with suspected daemon elements in Cauthess. For Noctis, it was just a quick 'check this out.' Find out why there was an influx of daemons at the beach—but keep his distance so that they didn't see him—and then report back so that the whole team could go and check it out together the next night. Nothing serious. Nothing he couldn't handle.

Straightforward, but very much not at the same time. This was a new territory for Noctis. He'd never been this far away from Leide before, _especially_ not by himself. He'd been to Altissia with Cor, with Luna, Nyx, or Crowe, or with his father back when he was alive. Back when he'd had a massive team of people to work with. Alone, though, the world at night was significantly scarier. Especially knowing what was on the way. Noctis lifted his head from where it rested in his hands and took a look around him. The train was surprisingly empty. Or maybe it wasn't really that surprising. For the most part, people didn't like to be out and about at this time of night. As soon as the sun crested over the horizon, the daemons started coming out, and as the night grew darker and darker, they grew more and more aggressive. Lethally aggressive.

Noctis' team (composed of himself, his childhood friend Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Luna's boyfriend Nyx Ulric, Nyx's dear friend Crowe Altius, and their coordinator—an old friend of Noctis' father, back when he was still alive—Cor Leonis) was in charge of slowing the daemon threat. The team used to be much larger; his dad, Regis Lucis Caelum, and his dad's closest friend, Clarus Amicitia, used to lead the charge. Alongside Clarus came his son, Gladiolus Amicitia, his daughter, Iris Amicitia, and Gladiolus' boyfriend, Ignis Scientia. But since Regis and Clarus passed away several months ago, the team had split in two. Gladio's team took orders from another of Noctis' father's friends, a man named Weskham Armaugh.

As far as Noctis knew, the two groups were the only people able to function in the time slip known as Hour Twenty-Five; a hidden hour between midnight and 12:01. Hour Twenty-Five was incredibly dangerous. Not only did the daemons reach their _most_ vicious, but all sorts of technology—unless specifically developed by certain scientists in Gralea—stopped working. Humans who were unable to function turned into crystals, completely defenseless against the daemons.

The greatest concern, of course, were the daemons in general. Their senses were stronger—they could hear and see the slightest of movements from much, much further away than normal. Noctis was anxious about seeking this group out on his own, but he could do it, if he was quiet. If he stayed away. Standing, he walked toward the window. They'd passed Cartanica a few hours ago, so they had to be getting _somewhat_ close to Piztala by now. He just hoped that they made it to the train station before Hour Twenty Five started, and the train stopped running for the hour.

Aside from that, though, there was very little that people knew _about_ the mysterious hour. Not where it came from, not why they were the only ones who could function while time ticked away; nothing. There were researchers looking into it all around Eos, but given the fact that most people weren't even _aware_ during the weird time-outside-time, Noctis suspected that they weren't going to make much headway on that anytime soon. Rather than thinking on that for too long, though, he turned around, casting his eyes out across the train again and taking stock of how many people would be turning to crystal.

There were two other people on board. Near the back of the train car sat an elderly woman, reading a book. Nearer to the front of the train car sat a boy around Noctis' age, with a messy mop of blond hair, clearly-visible freckles, dark-rimmed glasses, and a camera, looking every bit as anxious as Noctis felt. Maybe more, actually. His hands fumbled with the camera, and when the train hit a bump, it slipped through his fingers and to the floor, skittering and stopping right at Noctis' feet.

Noctis crouched down and picked it up. It didn't appear broken, but he didn't really know much about cameras. Crossing the short distance between himself and the blond boy, he offered it back out with a nod. "Here."

The boy looked up at Noctis, blue eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. "O-oh. Th...thanks." He reached out with trembling hands and took the camera from Noctis, checking it over and then breathing a soft, slightly shaky, sigh of relief after he'd given it a once over and determined it to be okay.

Him, on the other hand... Noctis wasn't so sure about. "Are you okay?" Noctis asked. He looked... _really_ nervous.

The boy nodded, a very abrupt gesture but a nod all the same. The speed and frantic nature of the nod suggested that he really wasn't. After a couple more seconds of looking at Noctis again, he quickly averted his eyes back down to his camera, turning the display off and sliding it into a black messenger bag that hung from his shoulder. "I'm... I'm fine," he nodded, not looking up at Noctis.

"Mind if I sit?"

Noctis asked the question before he really thought about it, but it was out there now. And before long, it wouldn't matter much. It was about a quarter to midnight, which meant that before long, the blond boy would be a crystal. Before he could answer, Noctis sat down. Not close enough to make it uncomfortable, but a foot or so away from the boy.

Blue eyes darted over to look at Noctis for a moment, then glanced back down at his messenger bag. His mind looked like it was working a million miles an hour, and his hands still shook nervously, even as he locked them together to try and calm them down. Pondering for a moment, before eventually deciding to speak up, Noctis tilted his head and asked, "are you sure you're okay?"

The blond nodded once. "I'm... I'm fine. Thank you." His voice was very stuttered, very quiet, and very nervous, completely contradicting his words. The fact that he wouldn't meet Noctis' eyes didn't help, either.

Maybe he didn't like having Noctis sitting so close to him. That made sense, of course. Noctis himself wasn't fond of uninvited people in his space. He stood from his spot, moving over to the other side of the train and glancing out the window behind him. Noctis couldn't see much. Darkness as far as the eye could see, aside from the occasional group of angry daemons. A pack of five Thunder Bombs floated around, illuminating a small area around them that faded into the distance as the train rolled along. An iron giant marched right outside the range of the lights that surrounded the train tracks.

Daemons upon daemons. That was literally all Noctis' eyes could make out against the darkness. No signs of animals, no signs of human life outside of this train. Turning his eyes inward again, he glanced down at his hands. But in his periphery, he couldn't help but notice that the blond boy sitting across from him was watching him closely. The nervousness that he'd expressed so far wasn't there anymore. Noctis glanced upward, meeting the boy's eyes for a moment, but as soon as the boy caught on, he sucked in a sharp gasp, pulled his lip into his mouth and looked away. Red dusted the top of his freckles, and he murmured what Noctis _assumed_ was supposed to be an apology. He could barely pick it out through the stammered words, though. There were the nerves again.

"It's okay," Noctis answered, his lips twitching. Not into a smile, not really; but there was something kind of endearing about the way the blond stumbled over his words. "Was I bothering you?" he asked. "Is that why you were staring?"

The blond's attention snapped back to Noctis then, and he shook his head vehemently. "N-no! No," he stammered. "You, um... it just took me by surprise, is all."

Noctis nodded. "Sorry about that," he offered.

When the blond opened his mouth to answer, instead, the train conductor's voice came over the intercom, informing them that they were about five minutes out from Piztala Beach station. Noctis glanced at his watch. Ten minutes to midnight. Good. Five minutes meant that the train would be stopped when Hour Twenty Five started. He glanced across the train at the blond again, and asked, "do you live out this way?"

Wide eyes looked at him through glasses, and he shook his head no. "Um... no. No, I live in Leide. In... uh... in Hammerhead, actually." He worried his lip in his mouth as he glanced over his shoulder.

The blond boy didn't live out here, but he was out here so close to midnight. Noctis' dad used to comment that he didn't understand why trains still ran this late, and Noctis found himself wondering the same thing at the moment. He supposed that they probably kept them running for daemon hunters, but as far as Noctis was aware, he was the only daemon hunter on the whole train. Soon, he'd be surrounded by crystals, and these two—plus anyone else on the whole rest of the train—would be crystallized and vulnerable to the daemons. To be honest, he wasn't sure if people could be harmed in their crystal form. For the most part, he stayed away from them, ever since Clarus told him that waking a person in their crystal form could kill them; probably _would_ kill them.

Looking over at the blond boy, Noctis examined him closely while his attention was diverted. Though he wasn't looking at Noctis, showing any of _those_ signs of nervousness, Noctis could still clearly see it in his posture. His leg fidgeted, his fingers tapped together, his teeth worried at his lip...

Before Noctis realized what was happening, the blond turned and looked back at him. "U-um..." he jumped to attention, nervously looking Noctis over, then asked, "what about you? Are you from around here?"

Noctis shook his head no. "I'm from Insomnia. The Capital City," he explained, peering out his own window and noticing that the Piztala station was appearing in the distance. "But I haven't been there in a long time. I'm surprised to see anyone else on this train, honestly. Not many people travel around at night, especially not in this part of Eos." Niflheim was among the least 'friendly' countries. Daemons were especially active, all the way from dusk until dawn. Noctis pressed his arm against his expandable sword where it rested beneath his leather jacket; just a security measure, just making sure it was still there and ready to protect him when he left this train.

"Yeah," was the other boy's only answer at first. "I don't... I don't really want to be. But my dad told me to come to Piztala Beach. To get some crystal or something. So... so, I don't really have a whole lot of choice in the matter..." He laughed nervously, glancing down at his feet. "I'm never even _up_ this late, honestly. I have a sleep disorder, so my dad makes me take medicine to make sure that I fall asleep before m-" He stopped sharply. "I-I'm sorry. You didn't ask for my life story. I... I'm... I'm sorry."

His dad made him? "How old are you?" he questioned. He _looked_ like he was the same age as Noctis, but maybe Noctis was wrong.

The boy looked surprised. "Uh. I'm twenty. Why?" he asked.

Noctis shrugged. "Just curious." So, they were the same age. Honestly, Noctis probably couldn't say that his dad wouldn't be the same way if he was still alive. He'd always been sort of protective. Maybe not to the point that he would have tried to _make_ Noctis take medication at this age, but to the point that sometimes he sent Noctis on some of the less dangerous missions, while giving some of the harder ones to Crowe and Nyx. Or to the point that he occasionally kept Noctis behind on missions that were said to be more dangerous.

Shaking that thought off as the train slowed to a stop in Piztala Station, Noctis stepped out into the night alongside the blond boy. The elderly woman stayed in place, her eyes only raising long enough to see the two boys step off the train. The cool night air should have been relaxing as it hit Noctis' skin, but really, it was more unsettling than anything. The beach—which Noctis was sure was _beautiful_ during the day—looked eerie. Shrouded in a cloudy, starless, night sky, with daemons marching back and forth like they owned the place, it looked like something out of a horror movie. Noctis might have been shaken, if he wasn't desensitized to it.

The blond fished through his messenger bag for a small piece of paper, looked it over, and then started for the stairs down to the beach. Noctis was on high alert all of a sudden. With all of the daemons _just outside_ of where the light didn't reach, he was walking to his death! Rushing forward, Noctis grabbed his shoulder and stopped him in place. "What do you think you're doing?!" he asked incredulously.

"Huh?"

"The daemons!" Noctis pointed down to the bottom of the stairs, to where a pair of Arachne and a group of four goblins, danced around each other. "You step outside of that light and they'll tear you apart."

Blinking in surprise, the boy looked at Noctis, pondering his words carefully before finally saying, "I... I have guns. I know how to shoot. I'm supposed to..." He reached into his messenger bag again, pulled out a small piece of paper and started to read from it, "go to a small cave on the other side of the beach and get... uh... some kind of gem that he needs for a research project. He's some kind of researcher and-"

Noctis shook his head vehemently. "I don't care what's over there! There's nothing there that can't wait until morning, right? There's no reason for you to go through all those daemons to get to some crystal, no matter how special it is," he insisted.

"I know how to fight daemons," Prompto insisted.

That wasn't the point. Midnight was rapidly approaching, and if he got down there and crystallized, and the daemons _still_ attacked him, he'd be a sitting duck. He'd be dead. Toast. And Noctis would _not_ be able to do anything to help him. Noctis glanced down at his watch. It was 11:56 now. If he could keep the boy talking for another couple of minutes, then maybe... _maybe_ , he'd be safe. Safer, at least.

He pulled in a sigh. "Listen. What's your name?" he asked.

Bright blue eyes looked at him in question. "Uh... I'm... I'm Prompto... why?" The question faded to confusion, and Noctis glanced down at the beach again.

"Prompto. I'm Noctis," he introduced himself. "There are a _lot_ of daemons down there, Prompto. I know you don't know me at all. I know you have _absolutely_ no reason whatsoever to trust me. But I need you to. Whatever is on the other side of that stretch of beach is not worth running through all of those daemons. Maybe you can fight daemons, but there are a _lot_ of them down there. Way, way too many for one person to take on by himself."

Prompto looked at him in question. "M-maybe. But I have to. It's what I was sent here for," he explained, the nervousness very clearly back in his expression.

While Noctis had meant to scare him a little, probably, this wasn't what he'd had in mind, but maybe he could work that angle a bit. Anything to keep him from crystallizing down there in the middle of those daemons. "Your dad wouldn't want you not to come back at _all_ , would he?" he asked.

That took Prompto by surprise, and he turned his head down toward the group of daemons closest to them. "I don't think so," he answered. "But he really needs that crystal. I don't... I don't want to let him down." There was a loaded layer to his tone there, and Noctis was _going_ to ask about it, but his 11:58 alarm beeped, warning him that Hour Twenty Five was close.

"Don't you think it'd be letting him down more if you didn't come home at all?" Pausing, Noctis flashed Prompto a smile. "I have an idea. Why don't I get you the crystal? If it's that important... I can get it for you. All I need is to know what it looks like and I'll grab it and bring it back."

Prompto blinked, his brows furrowing as he looked up at Noctis. "But if it's dangerous for me... doesn't that mean that it's dangerous for you, too?" he pointed out, eyes questioning.

Noctis chuckled. It was. But he knew how to evade daemons, and if it meant that it kept a body out of the ground, then he was more than happy to evade them and get the crystal himself. "It is. But you let me worry about that, okay? I'm sort of trained in stuff like this," he answered.

"So am I," Prompto revealed.

That took Noctis by surprise. Of course, he knew that there were people who fought daemons _outside_ of Hour Twenty Five. There were a _lot_ of them, actually. Still, for this boy, this shy, nervous, blond boy, to be one of them? That took him by surprise. He'd said that he could shoot, but that didn't mean that he was trained. He scratched the back of his neck and looked Prompto over. "You said you fight with guns?"

Prompto reached into his messenger bag and showed Noctis a gold-plated, engraved pistol. A second pistol still lay in the bag. Blinking twice, Noctis turned to look up at Prompto's face again. "My friend Cindy taught me to fire them when I was in high school," he explained. "I know how to fight daemons." He'd said that before, but there was more confidence in his tone now. "I do it for a living."

It wouldn't matter, in the grand scheme of things. Because in the distance, Noctis turned his head at the sound of the train station's bells ringing to announce that it was midnight. As he looked at the sky, he noticed that everything around had grown dark... but had also green-shifted. The sky had a green tint to it, as did all of the clouds in the distance. It wasn't like fog or anything... it was more like an atmospheric change. All of the daemon-protection lights were out now, no electricity whirred, there were no artificial lights of _any_ kind.

When Noctis turned to look at where Prompto had been standing, he expected to be face to face with a blue crystal. But he wasn't. Prompto still stood there, blue eyes wide with terror at the shift in the atmosphere around them. "W-what?" Noctis asked, too stunned to come up with a proper question. It was Hour Twenty Five. And Prompto was still awake.

What in the hell was going on?


	2. Uncertainty

Prompto had seen many, many things while hunting. He'd seen so many different types of daemons that it was easy to lose track. Once, he saw a group of daemons take out a bus by rolling it over. There was the time that he'd seen the group of daemons destroying a power line. The daemon that climbed the fence into Hammerhead and tried to kill a little girl. Daemons did horrible, horrible things on a day to day basis. But in his whole life, in the three years that Prompto had spent hunting daemons, he had never seen anything quite like this.

The whole train station was darkened, like someone had cut the power or something. The sky, everything around him, was tinted green. The ocean water was shaded a deep crimson red, and it looked thicker than normal. Almost like blood. He blinked twice at the sight, and then did a double take when he spotted the daemons. Daemons were never terribly calm. They were always ready to attack when humans got too close. These daemons, though... _these_ daemons looked different. Angrier. He'd never seen daemons outright fighting each other. For the most part, they just floated around and ignored each other; went about their business until a person got close enough to them. But these ones... they were _angry_ and it was scary.

Casting his eyes toward the train station, all he could do was blink dumbly and adjust his glasses in disbelief. There were people there moments ago. A couple of them, at least. A woman carrying her young son. A middle-aged couple in business suits. The conductor got off the train, too, presumably to take some sort of break. But they weren't there. In their place... were bright blue crystals? What were the crystals? They were in the exact same places as the people he'd been talking about. Where the mother carried her child, a small crystal jutted out of the large one in the exact same place the child had been resting against their mother's chest...

Each new thing that he saw had him growing more and more confused—more and more scared—so he decided to focus his attention on the _only thing around him_ that looked even _somewhat_ similar to the way it had looked before everything had shifted. Noctis was unchanged. He wasn't crystallized; everything about him looked exactly the same. So much so that he stood out against each and every one of the terrifying and weird new things that Prompto noticed. The realization had Prompto looking down at his _own_ hands. They looked the same. Still flesh-colored, not crystallized... so, it was safe to say that he was still the same too, right?

When he looked back at Noctis, his pale white skin stood out against their surroundings, against the dark green of the area around him. Words tried to form in Prompto's mind, questions. Something. _Anything_. Noctis seemed more confused by him than he was by anything surrounding them, though, which just confused Prompto all the more. The darkness, the green sky, the red water, the crystals where people just stood... and Prompto was the thing that caught his attention?

"You can function in Hour Twenty Five, too?" Noctis asked, breaking the silence with his eyes trained on Prompto in examination.

Prompto's mind spun, though. Hour Twenty Five? "No. I'm... what..." He stammered helplessly, his eyes darting back around to look at everything he'd already analyzed. Confusion jumbled words that already didn't really have much root in his mind. Giving himself an internal shake, he met Noctis' eyes again from where he'd been looking around helplessly. "What's Hour Twenty Five?" he asked, forcing his voice to stay level this time.

It was surprising that Noctis looked concerned. Granted, Prompto didn't know him from a hole in the ground, up until this point he'd looked confident and certain of everything. Now, though, his expression wrought of concern. Maybe a little bit of confusion. A few seconds of silent thought, where Noctis just stared at Prompto and blinked, and he bit his lip. "You said something about a sleep disorder. About how you're never up this late. Literally never or..."

That wasn't an answer, but something about the way Noctis appraised his face showed that the other boy was just as confused as Prompto was. That, more than any obligation to answer, spurred Prompto to speak up. "I never have been. A-at least I... I don't think so," he answered, his voice trembling. This time, it was less like his usual anxiety when it came to speaking to relative strangers and more fear of all of the unknown surrounding him at the moment. "N-no. My dad discovered my sleep disorder when I was three, I think. A-and the... the doctor prescribed me these sleeping pills that he's kept me on my whole life."

"So, this is the first time you've ever been awake at midnight?" Noctis appraised.

With an unsure, shaky nod, Prompto glanced down at a group of daemons as they fought one another. A red giant easily took on three ice bombs, and all Prompto could do was blink as the bombs melted into the ground. "Does... is this something that happens _all the time_?" His tone was shocked, incredulous, and a tiny part of him thought that maybe he was dreaming. Imagining this whole thing.

Noctis nodded his head yes, breathing a soft sigh. A brief flash of concern crossed his face, before he started explaining. "This is Hour Twenty Five," he explained. "It's... it's kind of like an hour between midnight and one second after midnight. When midnight strikes... this happens." He gestured broadly around them. "All electronics stop working. Power goes out. Daemons get... like that." He pointed down at where the red giant leaped at another group of daemons now. "The world looks different and time stops."

Prompto's head spun. "Time stops?" He tried to sound incredulous. Really, he did. Instead, his voice just came out as a desperate croak.

"Yeah. See the clock up over the train station?" Noctis motioned toward the old clock up above the blacked-out train schedule display. "Totally stopped."

It should have been easy enough to explain that away as a power outage or something, but Prompto was quickly realizing that nothing about this was easy to explain away. He glanced down at his watch—a small, silver, analog watch with a leather band; a gift for his twentieth birthday, from his childhood friend Cindy Aurum and her girlfriend Aranea Highwind—and was stunned into silence. It had stopped, too. Prompto had just replaced the battery several days ago. There was no reason for it to be dead. He pulled his phone from his pocket, and when he unlocked his display, he was even more surprised. Rather than seeing the time stopped at midnight, rather than his background screen photo of Galdin Quay at sundown... nothing happened. No matter how many times he tried to open the display, nothing happened at all.

Noctis shook his head. "Electronics don't work," he reminded Prompto, pulling out his own phone and making a show of trying to open the display to prove his point.

Swallowing thickly, Prompto looked around again. His eyes fell upon one of the crystals—the ones that stood in place of the mother carrying her child—and pointed it out to Noctis. "Well... what about those? The crystals?" he questioned, his voice still annoyingly shaky.

It didn't seem like Noctis was judging him, though. He raked his teeth over his lip. "People," he explained.

"P-people?" Prompto yelped.

With a nod, Noctis turned to look at Prompto. "Most people... they can't function in Hour Twenty Five. I only know a few who can. The ones who can't, crystallize," he explained, then glanced at Prompto, pressing his lips together and then releasing them. "It, uh... it looks like you're one of the lucky ones." The expression on his face was uncertain, a little bit confused, as he looked Prompto over.

Swallowing thickly, Prompto looked at the crystals spotted around the train station. "Does... does this happen every night?" he asked.

Noctis glanced at his watch—Prompto noticed that it was still running, and barely fought back a question as to how—bit his lip, and then looked at Prompto. "I... I wanna answer you. I wanna answer all your questions and everything. But I'm on a time crunch. I have to get somewhere and scout an area out before the hour is up." He glanced at Prompto for a couple of seconds, before saying, "Tell you what. You come with me to where I need to go, I'll help you get your gems for your dad, and on the way back to Lucis, I'll answer whatever questions you've got."

With a blink of surprise, Prompto adjusted his glasses from where they'd slid to the edge of his nose and pondered Noctis' offer for a moment.

As he pondered, though, Noctis kept talking. "It's either that or I go get the gem on my own, you wait here and don't agitate the daemons, and I'll still answer all your questions on the ride home." Much to Prompto's surprise, Noctis spared him a gentle but lopsided smile that made a weird, twisting feeling shape in Prompto's stomach.

Ignoring that for now, Prompto opened his messenger bag and took his pistols out. Ensuring that they were loaded, and that he had spare ammo in his bag, he turned his eyes toward Noctis. If Noctis was going to help him get the gem for his dad, the very least he could do was help Noctis get to where he needed to go. Besides that, there was a lot about this weird time thing that he wanted to know, that he wanted to understand. What better way to understand it than to walk around in it and experience it? He still had so many questions, but maybe helping Noctis get to where he needed to go could help answer some of them.

Resolution crossed a face that didn't usually have any, and Prompto nodded, declaring, "I'm coming with you."

So, that was what he did. He walked silently behind Noctis, who had reached into his leather jacket and pulled out an expandable one-handed sword. It shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. He'd seen Aranea fight with an expandable spear for years. Still, something about this boy his own age, carrying around a sword and navigating them through the woods with a map, dodging around daemons like he did it all the time, took Prompto off guard. A couple of times as they walked along through a wooded area, Prompto felt Noctis reach out to stop him, shush Prompto by touching his index finger to his own lips, and then point at a few daemons that Prompto hadn't spotted.

The daemons were even more vicious out here. At one point, as they navigated down a trail—the signs said it led them to Piztala Cove—he watched as a large arachne daemon _leaped_ across the path several yards ahead of them and attacked a group of goblins. When Prompto and Noctis passed the melee, he froze in his tracks upon noticing that the goblins had climbed up onto the arachne's back, and the colorful spider daemon tried in vain to yank them off.

Swallowing thickly, he turned to see that Noctis was a couple of steps ahead of him. He picked up his step to close the space between them, noticing that they were coming upon a clearing. Over a cliff in the distance, he saw a seemingly endless expanse of crimson red ocean, and pulled in a steadying breath at how terrifying it looked. Noctis stopped at the clearing, reaching out to stop Prompto, too. He got into his backpack and pulled out a pair of odd-looking binoculars. Beckoning Prompto to follow him again, he started toward the cliff that overlooked the cove.

Prompto followed, watching as Noctis got to his knees and then lay flat on his stomach in the grass.

It looked almost like a mosh pit of daemons down there. Prompto adjusted his glasses on his face, a habit he'd gotten into when he wasn't sure he believed what he saw, and looked out over what looked like a massive daemon melee. It was to the point that it was hard to identify what types of daemons were where. Several of them were familiar; bombs, arachne, goblins... but there were some that Prompto had never seen before. A tiny fish creature with legs and a knife stabbed at an iron giant and managed to bring it to its knees, before an angry ice bomb exploded and took them both out—as well as several other daemons surrounding it.

With a glance to his right, where Noctis looked through his binoculars, Prompto found himself wondering what he was looking for. It wasn't like it was possible to see anything specific in this group. Angry daemons upon angry daemons. It looked like they were sort of converging on a certain spot, though, which was odd.

Noctis stopped his scan like someone had locked his head in place, though. He lowered the binoculars and looked out over the daemons with wide eyes. "What the..." he whispered, his voice barely audible to Prompto.

"What?" Prompto asked, his voice equally quiet as he narrowed his eyes against the shadows to try and see what had caught Noctis' attention.

After raising the binoculars again, Noctis looked out over the sea of daemons, then lowered them again. "It's... I'm not sure. But there's... there's a reading in there that I can't..." He trailed off, lowering his binoculars again and squinting against the darkness.

Prompto arched an eyebrow. "Reading?" he asked.

Noctis turned his head to look at Prompto, seemingly remembering just then, who he was with. That Prompto didn't know much of anything about the world when it was like this. "These, um... these are sensor binoculars. Kind of like the type that read heat, but these sense daemons."

"You needed to sense daemons?" Prompto asked, turning his head back down to look at the daemon mosh pit.

With a gentle breath of laughter, Noctis shook his head. "Not really, but..." He offered the binoculars out to Prompto. "Here. Take a look," he suggested.

Prompto blinked a couple of times, surprised at the offer, but took the binoculars from Noctis' hand and raised them to his glasses. They were alarmingly high-tech, and there was a question in the back of his mind about how they worked when Noctis had told him—when he'd seen with his own eyes—that technology didn't work during this weird Hour Twenty Five phenomenon. But they definitely worked. And then some. Each daemon had an outline that looked almost like a weird thermal image. Like the types that Prompto had seen a hundred times in movies. Around the edges were a ton of charts and sensors that Prompto didn't quite know how to read, as well as a counter up in the top right-hand corner, telling Prompto that there were about twenty daemons down there.

The technology of the binoculars, however, wasn't the surprising part. No, the surprising part was that in the middle of the daemon pile—which in and of itself was a mess of yellow and orange—was a bright red outline of what looked like a person. It _looked_ like a person, but following the logic that these readings were daemons...

"What... what is that red thing?" Prompto asked, turning to look at Noctis. On a whim, he raised the binoculars to look at Noctis, but when all he saw was a slightly greener version of the other boy, his surprise only grew. As did the realization that whatever that red thing was in the middle of the group of daemons wasn't a person.

Noctis' answer of, "I have no idea, but it isn't good," did nothing to soothe him.

Turning his head back to the cluster of daemons, Prompto eyed the red human-shaped thing for a couple more seconds, before lowering the binoculars and handing them back to Noctis. "What are you supposed to do now?" he asked, eyeing the other boy in question.

When Noctis took the binoculars and put them in his bag immediately, then turned to Prompto and explained, "investigate, but don't engage," it only raised a couple more questions. But instead of answering, Noctis stood up and motioned for Prompto to follow, raising a finger to his lips and signaling for Prompto to be quiet. Noctis pushed himself to his feet and waited for Prompto to follow.

Prompto followed slowly, carefully lifting himself from the ground and stepping back from the edge of the cliff, watching as the daemons continued to fight. He could _just barely_ pick out the silhouette of a person in the madness, but he turned to Noctis, who had turned around, waiting at the treeline for Prompto to catch up. Something about leaving what _might_ be a person in the middle of a crowd of daemons didn't sit right with him, but Noctis obviously knew more about this than he did. And it wasn't like there was a whole lot the two of them could do against that many daemons.

So, he fought his instinct and hurried to catch up with Noctis. Except, he only made it a couple of steps before his foot got caught in a root that stuck up from the ground and he toppled to the ground, a yelp jumping up from his throat unbidden. He hit the ground with a thud that shook him to his core, and his left pistol slipped from his hand, skittering to crash against a nearby rock.

It took about a second and a half before he realized exactly how bad the situation had turned. His yelp alerted the daemons down in the cove, and the first thing he heard was the high-pitched shriek of an arachne growing ever closer, and the low rumble of an iron giant's growl seeming to harmonize perfectly with it. Prompto berated himself for a split second, before pulling himself to his feet and hurrying over to where his gun had landed and picking it up.

"Run!" Noctis commanded, hurrying up beside Prompto and rushing him along.

The pair of them hurried into the woods, their hurried steps alerting all of the daemons they'd passed on their way to get to the cove. Prompto stumbled a couple more times, and he cursed his clumsiness internally, but hurried to close the distance his stumbles created between himself and Noctis. A couple of times, they'd had to take out at daemons who appeared in the path, alerted by their hurried footsteps. Noctis took the first one down with a couple of flourishes of his sword, and Prompto took care of its partner with a couple of well-placed gunshots.

Somehow, the return trip from the beach to the train station felt longer. Twice as long. Prompto wanted to ask about it, but he didn't dare speak and alert any more of the daemons. Another stumble sent him to the ground, and Noctis turned around and hurried back past him, effortlessly taking out a pair of goblins as they advanced.

"You okay?" Noctis asked, hurrying to Prompto to help him up.

Prompto nodded. "Y-yeah," he stammered, before the pair of them took off running again. Behind them, the arachne still shrieked.

They should have been there by now, shouldn't they have? Noctis yanked Prompto into a very small cave just off the path, and took the map out to look it over. A few seconds of silent studying, and then Noctis grunted, letting out a hissed, "shit! I think we went the wrong way," as he looked the map over. "That three-way fork in the road back there. Did we go left?"

It said a lot, but also said a little, that Prompto couldn't remember. "I... I think so?" he answered-but-asked, meeting Noctis' eyes.

"Damn it. We were supposed to go right," Noctis cursed. "We have two choices. We can either wait out the next-" he paused to look at his watch- "twenty-five minutes in here, or we can backtrack and make a run for the fork. What do you think?"

In the back of Prompto's mind, there was a question as to why Noctis was asking him, when all of this was his fault to begin with. Unfortunately, it ended up not mattering much. Prompto didn't get a chance to answer. A thunder bomb and an arachne showed up at the mouth of the small cave, and Prompto fired at the thunder bomb in a crack shot that knocked it back a couple of feet. Noctis surged forward, striking out at the arachne, and then beckoning for Prompto to follow.

Prompto only made it two steps before something made him stop in his tracks. A silhouette of a man—the same shape as the man who'd stood in the center of the daemon mosh pit—stood before him, and as he stepped forward into the light given off by the thunder bomb's purple glow, Prompto noticed that there was a bright red glint in his eyes. At the man's appearance, the thunder bomb stopped attacking, and just floated to his side, almost like some sort of pet, illuminating him further. Aside from the bright red of his eyes, he looked normal.

Noctis turned from where he'd finished fighting the arachne, hurrying forward to Prompto's side, but when the man came into view, he stopped dead. "Pelna...?" Noctis asked, the confident voice that Prompto had heard for the rest of the night crumbling, and in its place appearing a shocked croak that sounded more like Prompto's own voice.

The man laughed. "No. Well... yes. _Kind_ of," he singsonged.

"But you're dead... you've been dead for-"

Cutting Noctis off, the red-eyed man—Pelna—chuckled softly. "You're not wrong," he chided.

Before Noctis or Prompto got the chance to speak and ask what he meant, however, the red-eyed man shrugged a shoulder and gestured the thunder bomb forward. In a motion too fast for Prompto or Noctis to react to, the bomb threw itself forward, stopping right in front of them, and shook like it was going to burst. Noctis did a rapid backflip to get out of the way, but before Prompto had a chance to react, the bomb burst, throwing him back and into the trunk of a nearby tree. Pain shot through his spine, and the last thing he remembered seeing before his consciousness ebbed away was Noctis hurrying to his side.


	3. Awakening

Too much was happening too quickly. Noctis barely had time to react to _anything_ that had happened since Hour Twenty-Five had started and Prompto was still _aware_. Later. His mind could catch up later. There wasn't even a second to wrap his mind around what was happening _now_. Especially as he crouched down on the ground to take Prompto's pulse and ensure that he was still alive. No, now definitely wasn't the time to figure it out. The pulse still beat normally, so Noctis stood securely between Prompto and Pelna. He could assess the rest of the damage later.

With his attention fully on Pelna now, Noctis drew his sword as he allowed his mind some time to catch up with him. Pelna died months ago. Before Noctis' dad died, even. If memory served, he'd been sent out with Nyx, Crowe, and their friends Luche and Libertus, to check an increase in daemon readings in Cleigne. Crowe and Nyx were the only ones who returned, and they recounted to the team, the story of how a massive daemon monster had cut everyone down one by one, save for them. They only survived because Pelna went back to keep fighting, to ensure that they escaped; to ensure that they got back to the others to tell them what happened. Crowe's tears as Nyx recalled the story still rang out in Noctis' mind.

They'd waited two days after that, with a slight glimmer of hope that Pelna would come back, before realizing that he wasn't; before realizing that the daemons had gotten him.

Noctis had been awake during Hour Twenty-Five for his whole life, unlike Prompto. He'd been _fighting_ in Hour Twenty-Five since he was thirteen; since he was confident enough with a sword to be able to face down a daemon without flinching. No, he didn't claim to know everything about how it worked. He _did_ know, though, that it wasn't some magical hour that brought the dead back to life. Appraising eyes scanned Pelna closely. Most of him looked the same. He had the same haphazard black hair, the same dark clothes that Noctis remembered him wearing the night Nyx and the others had gone on that mission. The only things that Noctis saw as glaringly different were his eyes, and his smile. Pelna had calm eyes before. Friendly and amicable. Whatever not-Pelna thing this was, its eyes held malice that Noctis had only ever seen on daemons before and his smile twisted unnaturally.

Like flipping a light switch in his mind, realization dawned on him and he immediately went on the defensive, his sword ready to strike. At the cove, in the middle of all of those daemons, there had been a person-shaped creature with daemon readings higher than anything Noctis had ever seen before. The way he'd all but ordered that daemon to his side, and then to attack them. Daemons didn't obey people. Was Pelna... had Pelna been turned into some kind of daemon?

There was no way. That wasn't possible. Was it?

"You're curious, aren't you? Wondering how I'm standing in front of you when I died more than a year ago?" Pelna's voice, very much not the cheerful and easygoing voice that Noctis remembered, cut the too-long silence created by Noctis trying to suss his way through the situation.

Part of Noctis didn't want to answer. He had a feeling that this Pelna shaped daemon was just trying to bait him; trying to taunt him into some sort of corner. Regardless, he couldn't deny the truth in his words. "And why I got an off-the-charts daemon reading from you, yeah. How you commanded that thunder bomb."

At that, Pelna just chuckled. The sound wasn't gentle or kind, but rather the low and taunting rumbling chuckle of a man who'd just gotten exactly what he wanted. "You would think, with all the time you've spent hunting daemons, that you'd have _some_ clue what's going on, wouldn't you?" He paced calmly across a three-foot area, completely ignoring the fact that Noctis had his sword at the ready, and was watching him as he paced. In fact, further proving that there was something _way_ off with the situation, he advanced one step, two steps closer.

Noctis should have attacked, he knew it. Or, at the very least he should have backed up. Fear rooted him in place; fear that he hadn't felt in a _long_ time. This creature wore the face of one of his friends. One of his former comrades. Someone that he'd spent years and years fighting daemons with. What if, somewhere deep down in there, Pelna was still alive? Swallowing nervously, his hands shook as he gripped his sword, watching as this red-eyed version of Pelna drew closer to his space.

"S-stop," Noctis finally found his brain for long enough to speak.

Pelna, however, didn't stop. At least not until he was standing right in front of Noctis. Noctis' hands clenched tighter to his sword—his training taught him that, no, this wasn't the most efficient way to fight, but his nerves and his sadness wouldn't allow him to listen—his eyes following Pelna as he smirked at Noctis. This wasn't the same smirk that the man wore when he sat with a young teenaged Noctis and Crowe at the campfire, telling them of the adventures that he and his team had been on. This was danger.

And when Pelna spoke up, that became all the clearer. "You know nothing. _None_ of you know anything. Years and years of Hour Twenty-Five, and you, your father, your father's father... _no_ one has been able to get to the bottom of the mystery. But I did. And so did the other me. Right before I took his place."

Noctis finally moved, backing up a step, only to trip over Prompto, who still lay unconscious behind him. The back of his foot made contact with Prompto's rib cage, and he went down, his sword falling from his hand as his backside impacted with the dirt. "O-other you?" he asked, scrambling to get to his feet.

So much more of what Pelna was saying made no sense. Took his place. He knew details about Hour Twenty-Five. If he'd existed for so long, how had he not appeared until right then? Pelna had been dead for a year. If what he—Noctis didn't even want to call him Pelna, at this point—was saying was true, had he been wandering the world wearing Pelna's face for however long? A hundred thousand questions sprang up all at once, and Noctis couldn't even focus for long enough to ask one of them.

Instead, he reached for his sword again, but Pelna stopped him by stepping to place himself squarely between it and Noctis. "I don't think so," he shook his head.

Swallowing thickly, nervously, Noctis scrambled to his feet. Even without his sword, he wasn't defenseless. His training had him ready for most situations. Stepping away from Prompto, taking him out of the line of combat, Noctis raised his fists to get into fighting stance. A threat. He still wasn't a hundred percent sure that he'd be able to follow through, and judging by the look on Pelna's face, he was banking on that fact. "To answer your question, yes. I said other me," he murmured. "And to answer the question I'm sure you're going to ask next, yes, I said take his place."

"Wh-what do you _mean_ take his place? What do you-"

Pelna shrugged his shoulders and half-smiled. "I guess it can't hurt to tell you. There's no chance you're gonna make it out of here, anyway. You saw me on the beach, didn't you? I know you did. When that one tripped-" he gestured toward Prompto- "I sent my daemons after you."

" _Your_ daemons?" Noctis croaked.

Nodding, Pelna pointed over his shoulder toward the cove. "Those ones are mine. I was planning to settle in there. Maybe grabbing some folks from their crystals and-"

At that, Noctis blinked. "That would kill them!" he shouted.

Pelna wobbled his head from side to side, his lip jutted out in dismissive nonchalance. "Usually. Or make them daemons," he corrected.

"Huh?" Noctis' eyes widened.

Chuckling, Pelna heaved an overdramatic sigh, before glancing over his shoulder at a few approaching goblins. "Don't you ever wonder why there are always more daemons, no matter how many you kill?" he asked, beckoning the daemons to his side.

The answer to that question was, of course, yes. That was one of the things that plagued Noctis when he was trying to sleep, or when things were completely quiet and his mind was allowed to wander. No matter how many daemons were killed, more always took their place. Was it because of broken crystals or was this daemon with Pelna's face just trying to screw with him? If it was, it was obviously working, because Noctis was quiet again. His hands shook, and where he'd formerly been holding them in a confident boxing stance—the stance that Pelna had taught him, ironically enough—now the tension released just slightly.

Did this mean that daemons, or people, or _whatever_ Pelna was, were taking people from their crystals at night, either to turn them into daemons or kill them? Noctis was about to ask the question, but before he could open his mouth, Pelna started speaking again.

"I was making a point. What was it?" Pelna continued as the daemons reached his side, crossing his arms at his chest. "Oh! Right! Take his place. I'm sure you've noticed-" Just as quickly as he started talking, however, he stopped. His expression changed, and he turned his head, frantically searching the area around them, as though he was sensing something—seeing something—that Noctis couldn't see. The goblins at his side followed his lead, too, looking around in a frenzy.

When he turned around completely, Noctis took advantage of his distraction, grabbing his backup weapon—a pair of old kunai that Nyx had given him and trained him with years ago—and thrusting his arm out to throw one at Pelna. It impacted with the back of Pelna's shoulder—with a skin-tearing slicing noise which shook Noctis to his core; he was used to fighting daemons, which had much thicker, sometimes metallic, sometimes solid, sometimes incredibly calloused, skin—and caused him to recoil. Not to fall, not to seethe in agony, but merely to recoil and then turn back toward Noctis, eyebrows drawn together in mocking disapproval.

The goblins that he'd called had turned on Noctis, too, and given that Noctis was down to just one dagger—the other of which Pelna was currently pulling from his shoulder—he realized that he might have been in trouble. One of the goblin daemons hopped toward him, and Noctis placed himself squarely between them and Prompto again. He lifted the remaining dagger, realizing in the moment that it really wasn't a very good defense on its own. That wouldn't stop him, though.

In his periphery, he noticed that Pelna, though he held Noctis' other dagger in his hand, was eyeing the green darkness around them suspiciously once more. Noctis wanted to see what all of the fuss was about, but before he could look, one of the goblins leaped through the air at him. He thrust his dagger out, catching it in the chest and throwing it off to the side, where it recoiled and then rolled over, preparing to strike again.

Before it got the chance, though, a voice—a new voice; not Prompto's and not Pelna's—cut through the silence. "To me, Ifrit!"

Cutting against the green-tinted darkness of the forest, a bright orange light flared up. Seemingly from nowhere, descended an ethereal-looking man coated in flames. He floated several feet above the ground, and in an extravagant gesture, surged forward to effortlessly destroy the two goblins where they stood staring at him in stunned surprise. Noctis, too, could only stare after him, especially when he turned his attention to Pelna now. Pelna's attention had turned from the horizon where the ethereal being had appeared, to where he stood across the small clearing. He swung Noctis' dagger at the being, who moved out of the way in a quick floating motion. The dagger cut through the air with a swishing noise, and then the fire-coated creature went on the offensive.

Without moving too much, the fire-coated being lifted a hand, throwing it forward lazily and sending a fire pillar shooting from the ground beneath Pelna's feet. All Noctis could do was stare dumbly, even as a fourth person stepped from the darkness and toward where the melee was taking place. The man—who was dressed in a long, black coat, trimmed with gray and white, some kind of suit beneath, as well as a black fedora that barely covered unruly burgundy hair—kicked Noctis' sword toward him. Perhaps Noctis would have been grateful, if the flying instrument hadn't just barely missed striking Prompto's unconscious form right in the head.

Rather than allowing himself to focus on that, though, he crouched down and picked the sword up. It was needless, all things considered, because by the time he looked back up, Pelna was already too focused on his battle with the flame-coated being, whatever it was. Noctis could only blink dumbly, sheathing his dagger again and raising his sword in a defensive posture. Not at Pelna, not at the flame-coated being, but at the stranger in the long coat. Another glance at his watch told him that there was another fifteen minutes left in Hour Twenty-Five, and Noctis was finding out that there were _more_ people who could function now.

How many more were there that Noctis didn't know about?

A few daemons seemed to have picked up on the melee and approached from other places in the forest, but the man in the coat was unfazed. While the fire-coated being fought Pelna, he took both a sword and a pistol out. An arachne that had gotten too close was cut down easily, and a pair of ice bombs were shot from a distance.

"I believe common decency should dictate that you assist me with this riffraff while _that_ is indisposed," the stranger commented, before firing another shot at a distant thunder bomb who was erring close to the melee.

Noctis, barely able to unscramble his brain enough to realize what was going on, turned his head and looked at Prompto. The blond still hadn't moved at all, and Noctis wasn't sure he was comfortable just leaving him there, unconscious, while there was a weird fight between Pelna and some human-shaped creature made of fire was happening.

The stranger cleared his throat. "Your friend will be fine. Don't you think it will do more to keep him safe if you help abet the flow of daemons coming to where he is unconscious?" the man questioned.

That was a good point. Noctis nodded once and hurried up beside the stranger. He turned toward the west side of the path, where a small group of three more goblins had converged, responding to Pelna's cries for help. Noctis couldn't help but wonder if every single daemon in the area was going to converge on them, but he didn't express those worries right now. Instead, he focused on fighting. Surging forward, Noctis cut through the goblins with ease. Goblins were always the easy part, anyway. But when another arachne daemon showed itself from inside of the forest, Noctis put himself on alert a little bit more.

Cutting it down took considerably more effort—arachne were always fast, plus the fact that they had the advantage of being able to float—but Noctis managed. He flipped backward, putting a little distance between himself and the daemon, before pulling the one dagger he had on him at the moment and throwing it at the daemon's face. It recoiled, and he surged forward, slicing at it as many times as he could before it recovered. Eventually it did, but only long enough for the stranger to put a bullet in its head from a distance.

Noctis gathered his dagger from the ground and turned, just in time to see the flame being, whatever it was, shoot a _steady stream_ of fire from his hands. Just like that, it was over for whatever it was that had taken Pelna's shape. Only, it wasn't over in just a 'this is a person and now they're dead' sense. Noctis watched in horror as the creature faded, turning to a puff of dark dust just like a daemon always did when they died.

Did that mean... "a daemon?" Noctis muttered in question.

"Ah, the last chocobo limps to the stable, as it were," the stranger commented, sheathing his sword, holstering his gun, and turning to Noctis.

Noctis turned his attention to the man and blinked twice. He turned to look down either side of the path, noting that without Pelna's cries of anguish or motions of command, they'd gone back to fighting one another like they'd been doing before. What was going on? Did that mean that Pelna wasn't Pelna, but a daemon? Sure, there had been something different about him, but a daemon? That was crazy. Pelna—or, the daemon, maybe?—made a comment about crystallized people becoming uncrystallized and then turning into daemons if they didn't die. But at the same time, it was all but _confirmed_ that Pelna had died. He was unable to crystallize. He could function in Hour Twenty-Five, so that was all but impossible.

If the stranger thought Noctis was limping to the stable, he was really, _really_ fucking wrong. Noctis was still really, really far out from stable. Maybe he was on his way back, but he wasn't there yet.

Now that its combatant was dead, the fire creature faded back into the air, and Noctis couldn't help but blink dumbly into the air as the red-orange glow faded. There was a question on the tip of his tongue about what the hell _that_ thing was, but before he even had a chance to ask, the stranger had gathered his dagger from the ground where Pelna had stood and offered it out to Noctis.

After a couple more dazed blinks, Noctis accepted the dagger from his hand and looked it over. "Thanks..." he murmured, still not even remotely sure who this man was. But that didn't change the fact that he'd saved Noctis and Prompto's lives.

"It's about time," the man chided, walking over to where Prompto lay on the ground, still vulnerable. He stopped a few yards away, appraising the blond. "Your friend is still alive, if that's any consolation."

For some reason, Noctis felt the need to protect Prompto, so in two quick strides, he hurried over to where Prompto lay on the ground, positioning himself between Prompto and the man. "I know. I checked. How could you tell just by looking at him?" he asked as he knelt on the ground next to the other boy.

The stranger laughed. "Well, for one, I have eyes and can clearly see that he's breathing," he spoke, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And for two, I happened to spot the scene from a ways away when he sailed into the tree. A hit like that would have to be very strong to kill him, and that was very much not. I do recommend getting him out of the woods quite soon, though. The lad will be quite alarmed to wake in a place such as this, I'm sure."

A hundred thousand more questions swirled in Noctis' mind, but eventually, he settled on just one: "who are you?"

If the stranger laughed at Noctis one more time, Noctis suspected that he would burst. "Me? Oh, I'm merely a man of no consequence. No one you should trouble yourself with. Now," he reached his hand down to help Noctis up. "I don't suspect that you can carry him to safety if you're kneeling on the ground, do you?"

Noctis regarded the man's hand with suspicion, didn't accept it right away. Yes, he'd saved their lives. Yes, he'd been nothing but accomodating—if a _lot_ snarky—since he'd shown up, but that didn't mean that Noctis trusted him. Not even close, actually. With a glance up at the "man of no consequence," Noctis took in the way the man's eyes narrowed expectantly. Like he would be offended or angry if Noctis didn't accept his hand. Though Noctis wasn't sure exactly what or who the fire-coated being that had appeared and fought Pelna was, he decided that maybe it wasn't the wisest to anger a man who could call on _that_ at will.

So, despite his reservations, Noctis accepted the hand offered down to him and moved to stand.

However, before he could even move, he was overcome by a sudden swell of... _something_. He couldn't pinpoint what it was, exactly, but it was strong. Overwhelming. It hit him like he was standing in front of a full-sized wave in the middle of the ocean, washing over him and almost knocking him over. And what it felt like to his body? That was even harder to explain. It was almost like someone had pricked an adrenaline needle into his heart. It thrummed, pounding a deep and heavy drumbeat in his chest. Whatever the feeling was, whatever had brought it on, it was too much to handle. Whiteness pushed in through the corners of his eyes, and Noctis' knees buckled.

"Wh-what did-" Noctis tried for a commanding voice, but since he couldn't even get through the question, it clearly fell short.

The stranger brought his hand back, and through white-blurred eyes, Noctis saw a devilish smirk crossing the man's face. Hands found the pockets of his coat and he chuckled a gruff note. "Merely a push, dear boy. Don't you worry. When you awaken, Hour Twenty-Five will be _long_ over."

Noctis tried to reach for the man, but he only managed to grab at the very bottom of his coat, before a searing migraine ripped through his head. A migraine so strong that it sent him to the ground, mere feet from where Prompto already lay unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep in mind, guys, that we're only on chapter three! Anything that you might think of as a plot hole will definitely come to light in due time! ♥ I got a lot of questions about plot holes and things that might or might not happen in the future, and while I don't mind giving away minor details, giving away _major_ details in the comments isn't fun for other people who like to be surprised, y'know?
> 
> ♥♥♥ I love you guys. You're the best, and you always make me feel great by being so invested in what I do!


	4. Candor

When Prompto woke up, not only was it not that weird 'Hour Twenty-Five' thing anymore... but it _almost_ wasn't even night anymore. His body ached as he moved just slightly on the ground. It was almost guaranteed that his back was going to bruise, if it hadn't already. His eyes opened, and the familiar blur of waking up without his glasses overtook his eyes. He was definitely still on the ground. There was mud caked to his face and he felt the crunch of dried leaves beneath him as he moved. He spotted his glasses seconds later, lying in the dirt, and picked them up. There was a tiny crack in the right lens, spreading across the top left corner—just enough to slightly blur Prompto's vision, he noticed as he slid them back onto his face—and he groaned with the realization that he would need to go into Lestallum to get it replaced.

Hopefully, Cindy wouldn't mind driving him. Because chances were slim that his dad would let him borrow the car. The thought of his dad _seeing_ his busted glasses brought another groan up from his chest.

Second by second, bits of the night prior flowed back into his mind as he stared at the ground. The second Noctis entered his mind, he raised his head slowly, sucking in a sharp gasp when he realized that not only was the other boy still very much _there_ , but he was laying on the ground mere feet away from where Prompto had just pushed himself into a seated position. He got back to his hands and knees, crawling across the short space between them and placed a hand over his mouth in surprise.

For a few seconds, he just stared. Was Noctis alive? What had happened? Had that weird person who it seemed like Noctis knew... had they _killed_ him? Prompto looked him over, slightly shaking hands reaching down to touch his shoulder. Immediately, he was relieved when he felt the slight push of air coming from the other boy's nostrils when he breathed out. A second appraisal showed that his chest was, in fact, still rising and falling. He was still alive.

Gently, Prompto grasped Noctis' shoulder and gave him a soft shake. "Um... N-Noctis?" he stammered, then worried his lip in his mouth when Noctis didn't move. "Noctis?" He tightened his grip on the other boy's shoulder, shaking a little bit harder. "Noctis, are you okay?"

Still nothing.

Prompto swallowed thickly again, looking around. Daemons still prowled around, but without the presence of the green aura of danger that Prompto felt last night when experiencing Hour Twenty-Five, they mostly went about their business. Turning his eyes back to glance at Noctis, he reached up and swept some messy blond bangs from his own eyes. If he had to, he could _probably_ carry Noctis back to the train. Except, he didn't exactly know the directions. When they'd walked down the trail the night prior, Prompto had been too focused on the daemons and keeping up with Noctis to really pay attention to where they were going.

With a helpless glance around in an attempt to get his bearings, he swallowed again. He couldn't just leave Noctis here and go look for help on his own. And even if he could, who in their right mind would come out here and brave the daemons just to help a pair of strangers, who were strangers themselves? Would anyone believe him if he tried to tell them what happened anyway? Hell, Prompto wouldn't have believed it himself if he hadn't been there to witness it. He bit his lip nervously again, trying to decide what he was supposed to do from here.

One more try to wake Noctis up. One more try, with the hope beyond hope that he actually responded. He reached a hand down, squeezing the other boy's shoulder gently again. One gentle shake and a soft call of, "hey Noctis. C-can you... I need you to, um..." To wake up, was the end of that sentence. "If you're... if you're okay, I need you to-"

Never in his life had Prompto ever been so grateful to hear another person grunt. At first, it was a soft grunt, one of just coming into awareness, that probably would have made Prompto laugh if the situation wasn't so dire. It still did. Just a little breath of a laugh from his nose that was stifled shortly thereafter by a clamping down bite on his lower lip. He released his grip on Noctis' shoulder, watching as the grunt turned to a groan, and then the groan stopped short. It seemed almost like realization had dawned on Noctis in a split second, and he pushed himself up to his knees, looking around frantically. "The guy with the burgundy hair. He... where did he go?" he asked.

Burgundy hair? Prompto thought back to that Pelna guy. He hadn't had burgundy hair, had he? Hadn't he been the only one there? "Burgundy hair?" he murmured.

Noctis was still slightly frantic as he turned to glance over his shoulder. "There... there was no one with burgundy hair around when you woke up? When did you wake up?" he asked. Worry lined his face when he turned to look at Prompto, and it made Prompto realize that whoever this burgundy haired person was... they were obviously not good news.

Blinking in response a couple of times, Prompto scratched his head. "I don't... I just woke up about... maybe two minutes ago," he explained. "What burgundy haired person?"

Instead of answering, Noctis just looked at Prompto in appraisal for a couple of seconds, chewed on his lip and turned his eyes to the ground. After a couple of seconds, it looked like he came to a decision. He still didn't answer Prompto; instead he let his body go a little bit limp and groaned again. "Fuck," he cursed, bringing a hand to his head and blinking a hard blink. He flopped lazily onto his back on the ground, and glanced up at the canopy of the trees, into the dark and star-spotted sky. "I feel like... either a pair of elephants were taking tap dancing lessons on my skull... or like I've got the world's worst hangover." He pressed a hand tight to his head, and pulled in a deep and heavy breath.

Prompto was distracted enough from asking about the burgundy haired stranger. Headache. He had just the thing. He reached into his messenger bag, then into his hunter's first aid kit, gathering the small bottle of pain relievers from inside. Two for Noctis for his head, two for him for... well, everything. Offering his hand out to Noctis, he murmured, "um... here," handing the other boy a pair of pills when he reached his hand out. "Pain relievers. I get bumped up a lot when I hunt, so..." Without saying anything else, he procured two bottles of water from his bag and handed one to Noctis.

Noctis chuckled a halfhearted breath and sat back up. "Thanks. What _don't_ you have in that thing? Guns-" he paused long enough to reach to the ground and pick Prompto's left pistol up to hand it back to him- "a first aid kit, water..."

Managing a soft laugh, Prompto accepted the gun when Noctis offered it to him, then uncapped his water bottle. His eyes stared at the clear liquid, rather than at Noctis, when he said, "a hoodie. My phone. My iPod. My camera..." As soon as the words escaped, though, a rush of panic rose up and Prompto found himself frantically searching through his bag. "My camera!"

He'd hit the tree hard. Hard enough for it to hurt. That was hard enough to possibly break his camera, wasn't it? Relief washed over him in a wave, though, when he found his camera and that it was unbroken. His hoodie had served as padding, protecting everything else in his bag from being crushed or broken. He took the camera back out of his bag, turning it on just to be sure that Hour Twenty-Five, whatever it was, hadn't had any adverse effect on it. It turned back on just like normal, displaying the grass and dirt beneath his feet, and he sighed a relieved sigh.

"All good?" Noctis asked.

When Prompto looked back up at the other boy, he noticed that he was on his feet now, collecting his sword and daggers from the ground. Biting his lip nervously, Prompto nodded. "Y-yeah. Sorry, I-"

Noctis shook the apology off and smiled softly. "Don't worry about it. It obviously means a lot to you." He took another drink from the water bottle and then extended his hand to help Prompto up from the ground. "So... I bet you have questions for me." The words were spoken with complete confidence. Not a question.

And they didn't need to be. Prompto _definitely_ had questions. So many questions that he didn't even know where to begin. He swallowed nervously and nodded his head, before hesitantly reaching his and out and accepting Noctis'. "I mean... I'm curious about some stuff," he admitted. "But I... you don't have to..."

After Noctis pressed a hand to his head and pulled in a sharp breath, glancing around at the daemons around them, Noctis shrugged. "I don't mind. Just... you know, I don't know a whole lot about Hour Twenty-Five myself, so... there's a lot I can't really answer." He beckoned for Prompto to take his hand. "Come on. We'll talk about it while we go get your dad's gem," he suggested with a smile.

Prompto obeyed hesitantly, getting to his feet and then letting his hand drop back to his side. He could feel his face contorting in surprise at the fact that Noctis even _remembered_ the gem, let alone the fact that he was still willing to help him get it. It wasn't like it was the first time someone had been nice to him. Cindy and Aranea were always nice to him. Aranea's kindness was maybe a little bit different than Cindy's, but it was still kindness. Cindy's grandfather Cid had given Prompto his first day job back when he was in high school, as a cashier at his garage, and the man was always very nice to Prompto. Strangers were nice, too, when Prompto could dare himself to talk to them. But something about Noctis, something about this relative stranger, was different.

"Thanks..." Prompto muttered under his breath. "I... I actually almost forgot about the gem." Gods, if he'd done that, his dad would never forgive him.

Noctis paused for a second and then frowned. "Your glasses are broken," he pointed out.

Pulling his glasses from his face, Prompto nodded and looked them over. "Believe it or not, this isn't the worst I've ever broken them," he admitted. "Once, when my friends Cindy, Aranea, and I were fighting a reaper daemon, it knocked my glasses clean off my face and right into a rock. Shattered them to pieces." His expression went sheepish.

With a soft chuckle, Noctis asked, "ever consider contacts?"

Nodding, Prompto shrugged. "Tried them, actually. They, um... they didn't agree with my eyes, so I'm stuck with these," he huffed, putting his glasses back on and adjusting them on his nose.

As Noctis led the way back to the beach, he shrugged. "I mean, it's not like you look bad in 'em or anything," he pointed out, turning his head the opposite way down the path, seemingly scouting the area for daemons. He turned his eyes back down to his map nonchalantly.

The words took Prompto way off guard, to the point that he somehow managed to simultaneously freeze in place and stumble over his own feet. The only thing keeping him from falling forward into Noctis was the fact that he braced himself on a very small tree that had no right holding his weight. But Noctis continued speaking, either unaware or uncaring that he'd just thrown Prompto for the second-wildest loop—second only to the night prior, of course—that he'd ever been on in his life.

"I know of a guy in Altissia who makes lenses that are about ten times harder to break than normal ones," Noctis pointed out. "If you want, I can text my friend Ignis and get his number?"

Prompto managed to find his voice somehow, and mumbled out a, "yeah, that'd be cool, thanks..."

Noctis turned around and smiled at him—a weird sort of smile that made Prompto's stomach do a flip—then nodded. "I'll do it when we're safe back on the train. Maybe after the sun comes up, actually," he mused with a sheepish laugh. "I imagine he was fighting during Twenty-Five, too, so he's probably out like a light right now."

In the back of Prompto's mind formed a question, about other people and Hour Twenty-Five, and he pressed his lips together, thinking about it for a couple of seconds. Noctis had said that he could ask whatever questions he wanted, but sometimes people said that and didn't mean it. The last thing Prompto wanted was to ask the wrong question, or annoy Noctis with all of the questions he _had_ about what had happened two hours—or at least that's what a glance at his watch determined—ago. Rather than meeting Noctis' eyes, he glanced down at the ground, biting his lip nervously.

"Hey."

The single, one-syllable word was enough to grab Prompto's attention from where it rested on the ground, staring at the dead fallen leaves between the trees. He looked up, catching Noctis' eye, and suddenly he felt twice as embarrassed. The dark-haired boy looked at him in question, his head tilted to the side and his mouth slightly parted. "You okay?"

"Um... yeah! Y-yeah, I was just..." Prompto raked his teeth over his lip and breathed a nervous laugh. "I was just thinking about Hour Twenty-Five. I'm... there's a lot that-"

Noctis shrugged a shoulder and beckoned for Prompto to follow him. "Well, ask me if you want. I told you that you could, so..." He folded his map and put it back in his pack, before starting down the old dirt path.

And that was exactly what he did. As they walked, he asked every question he had. According to Noctis, Hour Twenty-Five had been around for years. _"According to my dad, it's been around since, like... centuries ago,"_ Noctis had explained. That there was no time recorded, really, that Hour Twenty-Five didn't exist, and that it was a rarity for people to be able to function without turning into those crystals. That part, he'd already explained, but the refresher was nice. Beyond that, he'd explained that he had absolutely no idea what caused it, where it came from, why it made daemons so angry...

That made Prompto pause and consider what had happened the night before. "So that guy, Pelna. Why did those binoculars get such a strong daemon reading from him? You know him, right?"

Noctis' expression fell. "Yeah," he murmured glumly, as they reached the other side of the woods. "He's—he _was_ —a member of my team."

"Team?" Prompto questioned.

With a nod, Noctis sighed. "Hunting team. We hunt at night, but we carry out scouting or combat operations to places with high daemon readings during Hour Twenty-Five. That's actually why I was here tonight. Recon," he explained, his expression falling even further. "There have been way, way more high readings over the past week or two than there have in, like... fifty years." He went quiet, ponderous, and glanced down at the ground.

A hunting team that carried out operations in Hour Twenty-Five. Prompto blinked a couple of times as he examined Noctis. "How long have you been doing it?" he asked.

"Seven years. Since I was thirteen," Noctis explained.

Prompto blinked. He'd been fighting daemons since he was in high school himself, but only ever until eleven at night, when his dad made sure to call him and tell him to take his sleeping pill and come home. Noctis on the other hand, had spent _all night_ , plus one extra hour, fighting and investigating daemons, _every_ night since he was thirteen? "Wow. That's... really brave," he murmured, but embarrassment flooded his features when he realized exactly how stupid he sounded when he said it.

Being impressed was one thing. But _sounding_ like it—sounding awe-inspired by some random stranger who happened to put his life at risk every night to ensure that people were safe—was weird. Wasn't it? He could feel heat rising to his cheeks and he glanced down at the ground, rather than meeting Noctis' eyes.

Noctis huffed a halfhearted laugh. "I mean, it's something I can do to help keep people safe." He paused, scratching the back of his neck, and then said, "but there are times when it's tough. Like when you lose people," he confessed. "Which is... which is what happened with Pelna."

Thinking back, Prompto nodded. Pelna had mentioned being dead. "But if you lost him, then..." His voice trailed off, unsure of how to finish the question.

The sad expression on Noctis' face, too, made Prompto regret asking what he already had. Before he had a chance to open up, though, and tell Noctis that he didn't have to answer, the dark-haired boy stopped Prompto in his tracks and spoke up again. "If I tell you what happened after you lost consciousness..." he murmured, eyes raising from the ground to meet Prompto's again, "can you promise me that you won't tell anyone? And that you won't call me crazy?"

Prompto met Noctis' eyes, appraising him silently. Whatever it was, it was pretty obviously stressing him out, so if Prompto could help him shoulder some of the stress a little bit? He'd more than happily help. Maybe it was odd to say of a stranger, but after the night they'd had, it almost felt like they weren't strangers anymore. "I promise," he agreed.

A tiny, weak smile came back to Noctis' face for a split second, but it faded just as quickly, as he continued leading Prompto to the beach. As Noctis regaled the story of Pelna, all the not-quite-information that the man—the daemon?—had given. The talk of another Pelna, and the reason behind the daemon readings. As he spoke, each new thing had Prompto struggling to wrap his mind around it, and when he got to the part about the ethereal fire being that fought the daemon Pelna while he and a burgundy haired stranger fought off the smaller daemons? Well, that was when Prompto stopped trying to understand and just listened. Listened as he explained the migraine that ripped through his head after he touched the stranger's hand, and how he had no idea what it meant. And how the next thing he knew, Prompto was waking him up.

It seemed, though, that Noctis didn't understand too much, either. He finished telling the story when they got to the beach, and Prompto couldn't help but notice that the sun had risen. The daemons had left the beach a little while ago—Prompto wondered sometimes, what happened to them during the day, but he'd never thought to ask—and Noctis stopped to turn toward Prompto.

"You've been quiet for long enough for me to suspect you think I'm crazy," he confessed, worrying one side of his lip between his teeth.

Prompto shook his head vehemently. "N-no! No, I... I just..." He paused, blinking a couple of times. "I don't exactly..." Another short pause. "Maybe before tonight—er... last night—I would have thought you were crazy. If you'd come to me randomly and told me about an hour between midnight and 12:01. No, I'd... I'd _definitely_ have thought you were crazy. Knowing what I know now, though? I may not have seen what you saw, but..." Daring himself, Prompto raised his head to meet Noctis' eye. "I believe you."

It surprised Prompto when Noctis managed a smile, and even more when he reached up to put a hand on Prompto's bicep. "Thanks," he muttered. "But, to tell you the truth, I'm not even sure _I_ believe me." That was followed by a sheepish laugh, where he glanced back down at the ground.

"Well..." Prompto started, "we survived. With minimal injury. My back's a little sore and you had a headache, but we survived. That had to happen somehow, right?"

Noctis didn't respond with words at first, just flashed a grateful smile and beckoned for Prompto to follow him down the beach again. "Let's get that crystal for your dad," he suggested.

It was astounding to Prompto, how easy it was for him to talk to Noctis. There were so many random people that he had passing conversations with—just a hello or a wave or an embarrassed duck of the head, when he felt particularly awkward—who made him evaluate too much of what he said or end up not talking to at all. Then, here was this random stranger he'd met on a train and followed through the woods in a weird time-that-wasn't-time, and suddenly he felt comfortable enough to talk with him in almost the same way that he talked to Cindy and Aranea. He shook that thought off before it had a chance to form, and looked around the beach.

The beach at sunrise was gorgeous, Prompto couldn't help but notice. Before he even realized what he was doing, he grabbed his camera from his bag and snapped a picture of the horizon. When he put his camera back into his bag, he grabbed for the picture his dad had given him of the type of crystal he needed.

As he glanced at the picture, a small "huh," escaped unbidden.

Noctis stopped in his tracks and turned around, jogging back to where Prompto stood. "What's up?" he asked.

Turning just slightly to display the picture to Noctis, Prompto shrugged a shoulder. "This crystal... it looks almost like one of those... person-crystals that happen during Hour Twenty-Five, doesn't it? Just... a broken piece of one."

For a few seconds, Noctis was quiet as he examined the picture over Prompto's shoulder. "It does," he agreed, turning his head to look down the beach, then blinking in amazement. "Actually... Pelna did..." He paused, his mouth drawing down into a frown. "That 'other' Pelna... it said something about breaking people out of their crystals..." He trailed off, his voice sad.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't-"

"No, it's okay," Noctis reassured him, beckoning for him to follow. "It explains a lot. Like, why there are always more daemons, no matter how many we kill." He was trying to reassure, but his tone was actually pretty disappointed. "It does make me wonder, though," he added, "why your dad needs one."

Prompto was wondering that too, honestly. But that didn't stop him from following behind Noctis as they walked down the beach to where, indeed, a few small bits of crystal littered the ground. Prompto picked two of them up, just in case, and then he and Noctis hurried back to the train station to board a return train to Altissia. Piztala Station was far busier by daylight, he couldn't help but notice. They boarded together, and Prompto found himself a little bit—a lot—grateful that Noctis wasn't tired of him yet. In fact, the chatter continued. Noctis told Prompto, in hushed tones, about his hunting friends, Prompto told Noctis about Cindy and Aranea, and how they were _his_ hunting team. 

It was nice. It was _really_ nice, talking to a stranger like they were old friends. Like they'd known each other for a lifetime. Like... Prompto's anxieties weren't even a problem. They chattered and chattered for the first half of the ten-hour-long train ride back to Altissia. That was, until Noctis went completely silent, and Prompto couldn't help but notice that he'd fallen asleep. Not only had he fallen asleep... but he'd fallen asleep and, in his sleep, he'd leaned right over to rest his head against Prompto's shoulder.

Prompto could have moved him. Maybe Prompto _should_ have moved him. But he didn't. Instead, he let his eyes fall closed, rested his head against the back of his seat, and let his own exhaustion take hold.


	5. Crystal (I)

_The open space around Noctis was a pale blue that reminded him of Hour Twenty-Five crystals. He was surrounded completely by sparkling white wisps of unknown origin, that floated through the air and dropped what looked like crystalline fairy dust down around him. Wherever he was, it looked like something out of a children's book, or a cheesy scene in a romantic movie. Noctis looked down at his feet, and was surprised to see that, even though they were standing on solid ground, it looked like he was floating. He moved forward a step, but it was almost like nothing changed. Everything was still that pale, crystal blue, and wisps still floated through the air like rain clouds, raining that pale silver fairy dust down around him._

_It was silent in this odd, pale blue space. Cool but not cold. Quiet. Extremely quiet, actually. His steps made no sound in the nothing, and he found himself looking down as he walked, trying to see if there was any visual indication given when his steps connected. There wasn't. It simply looked like his feet were stepping on air, but landing solidly on the ground. He blinked. Weird. Kind of cool, but weird._

_Noctis opened his mouth to call out, but as fast as his mind was working, as many questions as he had, his voice wouldn't work. As if it would make a difference, he raised a hand to his lips and touched them, like he could pull the sound from his throat. Nothing came out, still, so instead, panicked eyes looked around at the silver wisps that floated through the air once more. Like one of them had answers for him. They didn't; they simply floated through the air, raining more of their silver dust down around him._

_"A guest," a soft, gentle, feminine voice called out to him, causing him to turn sharply toward the sound. "Long have I awaited the day that a guest would show up in Crystal Space. Welcome."_

_Blinking dumbly at the carrier of the voice, Noctis simply stared. It was a woman, clad in a black kimono, trimmed with white and lined with gold embroidery. She had straight black hair that stretched slightly past her shoulders and a kind smile on her face. Though her eyes were closed, it still looked like she was appraising Noctis, and that made a thousand more questions jump to the surface of his mind. Who was she? She said she'd been waiting for a guest to show up in this place—Crystal Space, she'd called it—hadn't she? So, how long had she been here by herself?_

_Once again, Noctis opened his mouth to speak. Once again, he could feel the words forming in his throat, but they wouldn't come out. He blinked, looking at the woman in a desperate plea for help. She could speak here. Why couldn't he? Why was it that every time he_ tried _to speak, it felt like the words formed in a bubble in his throat and got stuck? Noctis looked at her helplessly, silently pleading for an answer._

_The woman merely smiled. "I apologize," she told him, her tone chastened. "Unfortunately, as you have yet to forge a contract, you can not use this space to its fullest quite yet. I've merely shown myself to you to inform you that there is a great potential that lies within you; one that you have just awoken to." A brief pause, and she folded her hands in front of her. "And that though the path displayed before you is dark, you are the only one who is able to gather what is needed to put a stop to it."_

_Maybe that should have answered all of Noctis' questions. Hell, maybe it should have answered_ one _of them. It didn't. Not even a little bit. In fact, he had about five thousand more questions now. A contract? What potential had he awoken to? Wasn't the path that he'd been on all his_ life _dark? What was so different about now? Questions spun around in his mind, had him looking at this mysterious woman dressed in black with pleading eyes, silently asking her to tell him something. Anything. The words pounded at the bubble in his throat, that prevented them from escaping, and he took an advancing step toward the woman. Not to attack. She seemed harmless, after all. But it was a motion of desperate plea._

_She stepped back, keeping the same amount of distance between them, then smiling a gentle and sympathetic smile. "I am sorry. I wish that I could tell you more. Perhaps next time we meet, I will be able to give you more answers."_

_Next time? Noctis' fists clenched in frustration, and he wished beyond wishing that he could speak to tell this woman how unfair all of this was. Instead, he was forced to listen as she vaguely told him that something important might be happening soon, and that he had potential. Whatever that meant. He may not have been able to speak, but he could _mouth_ , so that was exactly what he did. As she smiled at him gently, her expression likely aiming to soothe, Noctis' lips formed the word 'please,' and even though no sound came out, it looked like they had the desired effect. She stopped, turning her head down to the empty space below them, eyes still closed._

_When she turned back, though, rather than opening up and telling him everything like he thought—like he hoped—that she would do, she shook her head. "I will see you soon, Noctis."_

_She knew his name. How did she know his name? His eyes widened against his volition... and even _more_ so when all of the pale blue around him began to white-shift. Blotches of the crystal-colored blue around him turned white, and the white spread out into the open space, until all that was left that _hadn't_ turned white was the woman in front of him. Soon enough, the white started to take her over, too. Noctis stepped forward again, a last ditch effort to get _some_ sort of answer, but instead of getting closer to the woman, the invisible ground didn't seem to catch his foot._

_And he fell._

Rather than landing on harsh ground or even continuing to fall into the white and empty void, the sudden shake of the train slowing to a stop jarred him into wakefulness. He started, straightening his head and looking around, stunned when he didn't see pale crystal blue, or even white nothingness. Instead, the familiar surroundings of the train showed him that the weird dream, whatever it was, was over now. Pulling in a slow and deep breath, then letting it out in a slow and steady stream, he tried to steady his frayed nerves.

To his left, Prompto still slept. When Noctis jarred, Prompto's head dropped just slightly from where it rested against Noctis' head, to rest against his shoulder instead. While it probably would have made sense to wake him up, something about the anchoring factor of having the other boy resting against him like that was a relief, after that weird dream.

And it was _definitely_ a weird dream. Noctis' dreams were always sort of lucid, but they were never like _that_. When he dreamed lucidly, it was always based on things he'd seen, things that had happened to him. Sometimes, he'd dream of hard daemon fights, ones that ended with the group needing to retreat; with Nyx, Crowe, and Noctis limping back to where Luna waited, and the group of them rushing back to base camp to regroup. Other times, he'd dream of training. Practicing, struggling to get better. Once in awhile, he found himself dreaming about the night his dad and Mr. Amicitia died, dreaming of seeing the ronin daemon's sword slice through his dad's back, then through Mr. Amicitia's middle, and watching the life drain from his dad's eyes when he pleaded for Cor and Weskham to take Noctis and run.

No matter what he dreamed, and no matter how lucid it was, it was never like that. Never did he remember a dream feeling so real. Everything the woman said played back in his head like someone replaying a section of a song. A contract. He had yet to forge a contract. Scratching his right hand through his hair, he leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. What did that mean? Pausing, he shook his head sharply again. Why was he analyzing this dream like it was something that had happened in reality? It was a dream. There was no way that some weird crystal place like that, with wisps and a strange lady dressed in black, existed. It couldn't. Right?

He swallowed thickly, watching as they took off from Cartanica Station. Altissia was next. Turning his head toward Prompto, he allowed the tiniest ghost of a smile to cross his face. If there was one good thing that came out of everything that happened yesterday, it was the fact that he'd met someone else who could function in Hour Twenty-Five. It was that maybe, he'd made a friend.

It wasn't like Noctis was wanting for friends. He wasn't. He had Nyx, Luna, and Crowe. Then there was Ignis, Iris, and... and _maybe_ Gladio, if the two of them could ever stand to be in the same room together again. If Gladio ever forgave him for what happened when their dads died. Cor and Weskham, too. There were even people who _didn't_ know about Hour Twenty-Five, like that biologist lady, Sania Yeager, or Dave Auburnbrie, who hunted daemons until he crystallized. He had friends. Still, maybe it was just because they'd sort of bonded through a trial by fire, but there was something different about Prompto.

When they first met, when Noctis first picked Prompto's camera up from the floor of the train, Prompto had seemed so nervous. Really, really nervous. His voice shook, and he looked at Noctis like he expected Noctis to lash out, or to judge him or something. Over time, over the _short_ time that they'd talked, that nervousness had faded just slightly. It still sprang up sometimes when he talked, like how he'd stammer over simple things; answers to questions that should've been easy or asking questions that were just as simple for Noctis to answer. Still, even having just talked for a few short hours, his demeanor was very different. He wasn't comfortable around Noctis, no. But he was... less _uncomfortable_.

That was good, because Noctis felt much the same.

For the most part, Noctis had a very large personal bubble. The number of people that he allowed _through_ that bubble consisted of the number of people that he called 'friend.' He didn't usually like it when people he didn't know touched him, or leaned on him, or got into his space. Knowing who he could trust was hard. Fear of betrayal was a very real thing in a world where every living person was struggling to survive every single night on daemon ravaged streets. Still, Prompto felt different. It was hard to explain, honestly.

Maybe it didn't need explaining, though. Who knew what would happen from here, after all? Maybe when they got back to Lucis—after Noctis made sure that Prompto got back to Hammerhead, anyway—they'd just... never see each other again. That happened often, didn't it? People went in and out of each other's lives, met, had conversations, then never saw each other again. Admittedly, the thought was a little bit disappointing, because... Noctis liked Prompto. The way they'd talked before Noctis crashed, it was almost the same way he talked to Luna, and he'd known her forever.

If that was what happened, though, then that was what happened.

The thought, though, had a selfish desire for a little more conversation with his new acquaintance urging Noctis to reach over and gently squeeze Prompto's shoulder in an attempt to wake him up. "Hey, you might wanna wake up, Prompto," he suggested. "We just left Cartanica Station and-"

Much to Noctis' surprise, not only did Prompto wake up, but he woke up with a start. Bright, violet-blue eyes shot open like someone pulled a drawn curtain to let light into a room, and he sat up with a start, looking around the train for a moment before relaxing. "Uh... s-sorry. I..." he stammered, raking his teeth over his lip and looking at Noctis.

Noctis could almost see the moment that awareness seeped in around the 'just woken up' anxiety, and he watched as Prompto blinked a couple of times. Smiling what he hoped was a comforting smile, he shrugged his shoulders. "What're you apologizing for?" he asked.

"Was, uh... was I sleeping on your shoulder?" Prompto asked, pulling his glasses from his face with one hand, setting them in his lap, rubbing his eyes, and then putting them back on.

The question took Noctis off guard, but instead of making a big deal out of it, he turned his head and looked down at his knees. "Yeah," he muttered in reply. "It's okay, though. 'Cause I'm pretty sure when I woke up I was sleeping on yours." At that, he couldn't help but laugh a sheepish laugh.

A heavy silence coated the area between them for a couple seconds, and Prompto broke it by asking, in a meek and very strangled voice, "you said we were past Cartanica?"

When Noctis turned to look at Prompto again, the blond was looking out the window. "Yeah. About five minutes ago. So, we're probably about an hour out from Altissia." He paused, pondering last night's events, and then this morning's crash. Turning back toward Prompto, he spoke before he could talk himself out of it. "Hey. Wanna head to the dining car? I don't think I ate since last night right after Cartanica, so... I'm starving. My treat," he offered.

Prompto blinked at him, surprise lining his features, and raked his teeth over his lip. "You sure?"

Noctis nodded. "C'mon. I heard that the train has pretty good omelets. Don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure I could eat four of 'em without a problem." He allowed himself a smile, and watched as Prompto responded in kind. His smile was nice. Bashful, but no less happy. Noctis stood, stepping out from their seat and waiting for Prompto to follow.

As they walked through the two cars between them and the dining car, Noctis listened to snippets of conversations as they passed. Most of them were inconsequential, but when they passed a middle-aged couple, who leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, Noctis picked up a couple of words that caught his attention. The man told the woman about daemons, and how there was a sort of large congregation of them in Piztala, and he huffed a bitter laugh as the automatic door to the next car opened. There was so much that people didn't know.

When they stopped at the dining car, another couple spoke of the same influx of daemons, as well as reports of random shattered crystals appearing on the beach. Prompto seemed to catch that particular snippet, too, and turned to look at him with quiet acknowledgment. There was a question hiding behind his eyes, but he figured that when they sat to eat, he'd ask.

He turned out to be right. Noctis ordered a plate of bacon and eggs with toast, while Prompto ordered an omelet with fried rice, each of them ordered a cup of coffee, and once they got their food, they went to sit in the far back corner of the dining car. Prompto glanced at him once they'd settled in, eyes questioning, and Noctis managed a soft chuckle.

"Go ahead and ask," he suggested. "You've wanted to since before we ordered."

Prompto's cheeks flushed a little, and he raked his teeth over his lip. "Sorry," he muttered.

Noctis shook his head no. "Don't be. I don't mind," he promised, pulling the top from his coffee cup and mixing some sugar in. "Told you you could ask anything, remember?" He smiled what he hoped was a comforting smile.

When Prompto smiled bashfully and nodded, pulling the top from a small container of creamer, Noctis was glad to realize that his smile _had_ been comforting. "I was just, you know, wondering. When I hear on the radio or see in the papers, about how random daemon hot spots get wiped out? Or when big groups disappear out of nowhere and no one can figure out how or why," he paused, stirring his coffee, then looking up at Noctis. "That's you?" That part was spoke in a whisper.

"Not just me," Noctis answered, his tone equally hushed. "My crew, too. I told you about Luna, Nyx, and Crowe last night, right?" When Prompto nodded, he continued. "And the other crew. Ignis, Gladio, and Iris. We can all function in Hour Twenty-Five. We take a few days, scout out spots like that, and then clean them up." But last night was the first time he'd ever seen anything like what they'd seen.

Prompto looked at him in amazement. "And no one knows?" he asked, before taking a bite of his omelet.

Shaking his head no, Noctis shrugged. "I mean, you saw what it was like," he announced around a mouthful of bacon and egg. "People wouldn't understand, y'know? An hour that isn't on the clock, where everything stops working and people turn into crystals? I start trying to spread the word of that, and the fact that I'm part of a team that keeps people safe _in_ that weird time? People'd think I was nuts."

For a few seconds, Prompto was quiet; contemplative, as he examined his plate. A curtain of hanging blond bangs obstructed his right eye from view, but Noctis could clearly see the gears turning through the expression in his left eye. "That's gotta be lonely," he murmured. His voice was so quiet, that Noctis had the sneaking suspicion that it wasn't meant to be heard.

Noctis had heard it, though. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But at the same time, I've got the others with me, you know? I'm never really alone."

With a nod and a shrug, Prompto raked his teeth over his lip. "Still. It's like... you're doing this... this thing. Something keeps the whole world safe," he muttered, cutting off another piece of omelet. "And no one knows. No one knows to thank you, or to tell you how brave it is. It... it doesn't seem fair, that's all. Someone should thank you. Someone should know how much you sacrifice." As he spoke, his tone became slightly more passionate, but he didn't raise his voice at all.

It made Noctis smile a sheepish smile in spite of himself. "It's okay," he pointed out. "I don't do it to get thanked. I don't think any hunters do it to be thanked. What I do isn't really any different than what you do. I just... y'know, do it for an extra hour."

"Yeah, with angrier daemons and weird red-eyed daemon selves and..." Prompto huffed, slightly incredulous, and shook his head no. "I'm nowhere near as cool as you are."

Noctis shook his head, giving Prompto a pointed look. "That's not true," he insisted. "You're plenty cool. I mean, I told you how rare it is to be able to function in Hour Twenty-Five, right? And you can. If you thinking that me doing what I do is all it takes to be cool, then it seems like you've already got that one down."

With a shake of his head, Prompto laughed bitterly. "No, it's more than that. I mean, you know so much about all that stuff. You have those binoculars and all that stuff. You're on a way different level than me," he insisted.

A thought entered Noctis' mind then, as he glanced across the table at Prompto. Maybe there was a way to ensure that he saw Prompto again, and a way to help Prompto feel a little bit more confident. He probably should have spoken to Cor about this first, or at least thought about it a little more, but before he could talk himself out of it, he'd met Prompto's eyes and just said it.

"What do you say to coming with me sometime? On another recon mission, or even one to take out some daemons during Twenty-Five? Cor will probably want to talk to you anyway, once I tell him that there's someone else who can function then, so I mean... if you want, I can probably-"

Before he could even finish his thought, Prompto was nodding eagerly at him. "Yeah!" he yelped, catching the attention of several of the other people in the dining car. When he realized that people were looking at him, he fell sheepish, but his eyes got a little bit of that eager spark back into his expression when he looked at Noctis, and spoke up again, "yeah. Th-that sounds good. If it's not too much of a hassle, I mean. I know you've been doing this for a long time and you probably have a way you do things and-"

"It's fine," Noctis cut him off, not allowing him to make himself feel like a burden, and smiled honestly. "I'd be glad to have you along."

The smile that Prompto showed him right then made him glance down at his plate. It was shy, but happy, and it made his whole face look about ten times more attractive. A tiny bit of heat rose to Noctis' cheeks, but he decided not to acknowledge it for now, instead allowing himself to focus on the fact that his worries wouldn't be coming true. Whatever happened, as long as he told Cor about Prompto and what had happened tonight, he'd see Prompto again.


	6. Clash

Prompto smiled at the fact that Noctis' name and number were stored in his phone now, as the pair of them walked from Noctis' car—his _really cool_ car, that he'd parked at Cindy and Cid's garage to get the oil changed—to the two-bedroom apartment he shared with his dad. He waved at Aranea as they passed her at the garage, and Prompto couldn't help but smirk even wider at the suspicious glance she cast Noctis' way as they jogged between Cindy's garage and the general store. He'd probably have to explain to her later, why he was walking through town with a stranger, smiling at his phone like an idiot. Or, he wouldn't _have_ to, but he never minded explaining when it came to Aranea or Cindy.

It seemed like Noctis had never been to this part of Hammerhead before, if the way he was looking around at the buildings as they passed indicated anything. He eyed the school and the post office, and smiled when they passed a small hobby shop, humming along with the music that echoed out through the open door. Prompto liked that shop. Aranea's friends Wedge and Biggs owned the place, and they let Prompto take his pick of the photography equipment as well as all of the little odds and ends to upgrade his guns, and never really made him pay. He figured that Aranea and Cindy had something to do with that fact. The girls always looked out for him like that, no matter how many times he told them that he could take care of himself.

 _"Sure you can,"_ Aranea had said, _"but you could totally use the money you save on camera and gun crap to get out of your dad's place. You can't tell me you don't want to at least a little."_

She wasn't wrong, either. It wasn't like Prompto _wanted_ to live with his dad for the rest of his life. He didn't even really want to be in _Hammerhead_ for the rest of his life. A dream that he hadn't told anyone, not even Cindy or Aranea, was to go to Lestallum and be a photojournalist. Just because he wanted it, though, didn't mean it would happen. His dad and his older brother always told him to give up on those silly dreams. Hunting paid the bills, so a hunter he'd remain.

"Hammerhead's big compared to Meldacio," Noctis muttered, taking a couple jogging steps to catch up to where Prompto was turning a corner. "I've only ever been to the gas station to fill up, or the diner to take hunts. I guess I never thought about what was behind them." He half-smiled, peeling his leather jacket off and draping it over his arm, then stuffing his opposite hand into his pocket.

Prompto nodded. "Lots of people don't realize how much town there is back here," he agreed. "I knew this one tourist lady who thought it was all desert behind the original couple buildings. Aranea went off on this rant about how dumb that was. We had to go to school, right? And we've gotta get mail. And there's gotta be jobs for the people who _do_ work here."

With a shrug, Noctis pointed out, "it's easy to look over it when there's places like Cauthess, that don't even have half this stuff." He glanced up at the grocery store as they passed, and then back over to Prompto. "I mean, Insomnia had a lot of stuff like this before the daemons took it. More, even. Skyscrapers and businesses and all kinds of stuff."

There was a wistfulness to Noctis' tone that surprised Prompto as they rounded another block. Two more to his dad's apartment. It wasn't like Noctis was cold or emotionless or anything, at least not that Prompto had seen, but this seemed a little different. As he spoke of Insomnia, he glanced to the east, toward what used to be the Insomnian border. A lot of Prompto's business took him into the old Insomnian ruins, so he was fully aware of how close Hammerhead was to the decade-since-fallen city. Prompto's glance followed Noctis', like they'd be able to see the ruins through Hammerhead's buildings. They didn't. All they saw was old man Takka's duplex that he shared with Cid.

"You were in Insomnia when it fell?" Prompto dared himself to ask. Why he was so brave with Noctis, he still had no idea.

Noctis nodded. "My dad was a part of the city council, with his best friend Clarus, and their friends Cor and Weskham. I think someone wanted him to take on more responsibility, become like... a mayor or a city leader or something? But he knew, and so'd the others, that the real threat to the city was the daemons. So, he dedicated his life to hunting instead of ruling," he explained, his eyes on the ground as he spoke.

Knew. Dedicated. Wanted. Prompto blinked. "Is he..." He trailed off, biting his lip. Did he really want to ask about something that looked so painful?

The non-question was met with a somber nod, and Noctis turned his head to glance at Prompto. "A year ago. Hunt gone bad." He didn't say much else than that, just shrugged a nonchalant shrug that wasn't nonchalant at all, and met Prompto's eyes.

Prompto frowned. Noctis' dad was dead. "What about your mom?" he asked.

Shaking his head no, Noctis glanced back down at the ground. "When I was a kid. Eight, I think. She was a hunter, too, and she got overwhelmed."

The frown on Prompto's face only deepened. Noctis didn't have either of his parents? While Prompto's situation was complicated—his dad told him that his birth parents had abandoned him, and that Prompto would be dead if Verstael hadn't found him somewhere and taken him in—it'd be pretty selfish of him to complain, when there were people like Noctis out there that didn't even have that. Wouldn't it? No, his dad wasn't exactly the easiest person to talk to, and yeah, sometimes he tended to remind Prompto of how screwed up he was in ways that weren't exactly nice... but, Prompto owed the man his life. If he hadn't decided to pick Prompto up that day, the daemons would have gotten him as soon as the sun went down. So, maybe he wasn't perfect; maybe he wasn't _good_ , but at least he was something.

"I'm sorry," Prompto finally said. "I guess that explains why you started hunting, huh? A family tradition and everything." He turned to look back at Noctis again.

Noctis nodded. "That and I really just want to do what I can to protect people from daemons. To keep any more people from going through what me and my friends did," he added, flashing Prompto a tiny, halfhearted smile. "If there's a way to keep people from being daemon chow, I'll do whatever I can, y'know? Especially in Hour Twenty-Five when they're all totally vulnerable."

Prompto felt his insides twist awkwardly again, both at the smile and the words that Noctis was saying. How was he real? Brave, nice, tough, cool... a little good-looking—okay, a _lot_ good-looking—he was like something out of a movie or something. People like that didn't exist outside of movies, did they? Swallowing thickly, he turned his head away from Noctis again and back to the road just in time to see the turn to his dad's apartment. When he did, his stomach dropped. Against his volition, he stopped in his tracks. The blue convertible in the parking lot, parked next to his dad's green SUV, only meant one thing.

Loqi was visiting.

Maybe some people would be happy to see their older brother. Loqi, though, wasn't Prompto's real brother, and he always made sure that Prompto was painfully aware of that fact. There was also the fact that his dad always seemed to make very outward and very harsh comparisons between Prompto and Loqi—how Loqi was so much more successful and smarter and much likelier to make him proud than Prompto was—so loudly that it was abundantly obvious that he was trying to make sure Prompto heard them. A part of him didn't want to go home. A part of him wanted to grab Noctis' hand, take him back to Cid's garage, and wait with him while they finished the oil change.

But he couldn't. He needed to bring his dad the crystal. Maybe he could have Noctis wait outside, drop the crystal off, and then come back outside without giving Loqi _too_ much chance to tear into him. Or maybe with someone else there, they'd be less inclined to do their thing. They didn't with Aranea or Cindy, but Prompto had a sneaking suspicion that Aranea had much to do with that. She never let them get away with it. In fact, she was the one person that his dad seemed genuinely intimidated by.

Noctis, who had stopped a couple of steps ahead and turned around, had his head tilted in concern as he looked at Prompto. "You okay?"

Meeting Noctis' eyes, Prompto nodded. "I'm, uh... yeah. Sorry. I just..." His stammer came back; the mere thought of his new acquaintance meeting his brother, and risking the chance of his dad or his brother tearing into him in front of Noctis scared him even more than the daemons had the night prior. "Let's... let's go. It's not far."

The walk to the apartment was quiet. Quieter than any time that he'd spent with Noctis so far had been. He stared at his feet, leading Noctis to the apartment complex. His dad's apartment took up the whole of the third floor, and each flight of stairs that they walked up had Prompto's anxiety rising. By the time they got to the door at the top of the third-floor stairs, he turned around and looked at Noctis.

Was it really a good idea to expose someone who could _possibly_ be a new friend, to his dad and his brother, right after they met? Even if it _was_ fair, wouldn't it ruin the chance at the new friendship getting off the ground? At this point, wasn't it already too late to have second thoughts and doubts like this? They were already standing in front of his door. Wouldn't he look pathetic, if he suddenly changed his mind and tried to make Noctis leave? His hands clenched, anxiety making his muscles tense, and he breathed in, deciding that if nothing else, he should at least warn Noctis.

"S-so, I, uh... I should've warned you before," he started, in a hushed tone, stammering and humiliating himself every step of the way. "My, um... my older brother's in there. H-he... he's not exactly the nicest guy. Doesn't like me much. Likes to remind me that I'm... that I'm adopted." He sighed, looking at Noctis, who was looking at him with kind eyes that made almost Prompto feel worse. "You don't have to come in. You know. If you don't want to."

Noctis shook his head no. "Takes a lot more than a jerk older brother to scare me," he answered, his tone casual.

It made Prompto wish that he could find it comforting. Part of him, the same part that wanted to make Noctis leave the second he realized that Loqi was there, wished that he'd have taken the out. But he hadn't. Maybe it was better this way, honestly. Maybe it was better that Noctis saw exactly how screwed up his life was early. Twenty years old, and still living with his dad, still bullied by his older brother...

He shook his head hard and raised his hand to unlock and open the door. In the distance, in his dad's office, he could hear the sound of the conversation stopping abruptly when the door opened. That wasn't uncommon. Whenever he came back from hanging around with Cindy and Aranea and his dad was talking to Loqi, they always stopped abruptly whenever he walked into the apartment. Shortly thereafter, he heard the sound of his dad's office door opening, and then two sets of footsteps echoing down the hallway. Hushed whispers—sharp, surprised, almost _angry_ whispers—hit his ear in two familiar voices.

"H-hey dad," Prompto announced before the pair of them appeared. "I'm... I'm home, and I brought company back with me."

Loqi's voice came from the hallway first. "About time," he muttered.

Nodding, Prompto opened his bag and rooted around for the crystals. "Y-yeah. Sorry," he answered. "We... um... we got held up fighting daemons."

"We." His dad's voice filled the room, not questioning, but sounding incredulous. When the man appeared around the corner, his eyes immediately went to Prompto, staring at him like he was surprised to see him. After a few seconds of that, he zeroed in on Noctis and he appraised him for a minute. "Who is this?"

Prompto found one of the crystals, and then rooted around for the other, lifting his head to glance at his dad. "His name is Noctis. I met him on the train, and he helped me get your crystals," he explained in a quiet voice, very carefully neglecting to mention anything else; about Hour Twenty-Five, or Pelna, or the stranger that only Noctis saw. "If not for him, I'd probably be dead." As he spoke, he didn't dare meet his dad's eye.

Huffing a laugh, Loqi stepped forward. "Of course you would have," he rolled his eyes. "I suppose we owe you a thank you, for making sure that he didn't get himself killed."

"Actually, he held his own fine." Behind him, the sound of Noctis' voice when he answered took Prompto by surprise. It wasn't the kind and gentle tone that Prompto had gotten used to hearing. There was annoyance there, mistrust. "He's a pretty good shot."

Once again, Loqi chuckled in response, holding his hand out in front of him. "Excuse me if I'm skeptical. The crystal, Prompto," he commanded.

Prompto grabbed the second crystal from the bottom of his bag, and offered them out to Loqi. "There were a bunch, so... so I got you two. One for a fallback," he explained. "Just in case, you know?" He allowed himself the tiniest smile, when his eyes turned from Loqi to glance at his father. As soon as he spotted his dad's expression, though, any traces of a smile faded from his expression.

The way his dad was looking at Noctis was... weird, to say the least. There was mistrust there, but there was also appraisal. Like he'd seen Noctis somewhere before, or something. His dad's eyes were narrowed, his lips forming a thin straight line as he accepted the crystals from Loqi. "Good," was his only answer to what Prompto had told him about the crystals.

"He deserves a thank you."

If the moment had been in a movie, or a sitcom, that would have been the moment that a record scratch echoed out through the room and everything stopped. Noctis' voice cut through the tension, quiet but still audible, and more than a little commanding. Loqi stopped what he was doing, turned his head to look at Noctis with his eyes narrowed much like his dad's had been moments ago. His dad's expression was... really difficult to describe. Incredulous, angry, annoyed by this random stranger who suddenly appeared in his apartment and started standing up for Prompto. Prompto, too, was stunned. He turned around, looking at Noctis and blinking.

Loqi's voice broke the silence. "Excuse me?" he asked.

Noctis didn't back down, though. "I said, he deserves a thank you. I mean, he went out to Piztala Beach by himself. He had no idea that I'd be there and willing to help him. He was ready to walk through a beach full of daemons to get to the crystal on the other side. Daemons that would've ripped him to shreds," he pointed out. "He hands you double what you asked for, and all you say is 'good?' You don't thank him?"

"I don't believe I asked you. Noctis, was it?" The tone in his dad's voice was the same one he gave when he was about to pick Prompto apart, and Prompto found his stomach twisting in anxiety at the sound. "You're the one who said he held his own, were you not? Are you meaning to say that he couldn't have held his own against the daemons on the beach?"

Huffing a laugh, Noctis deadpanned, " _no_ one could have held their own against the daemons on the beach."

Loqi looked at Noctis now, too. "Then how is it that you two managed to? And what is it that makes you think you have the right to walk into someone else's apartment and start telling them how to handle their family business? None of us really know you. Not even _Prompto_ has known you for more than an evening." His tone was very much the typical Loqi tone.

"Exactly," Prompto's dad agreed. "And you're lecturing me about manners."

Prompto felt like sinking through the floor. He turned to Noctis, his expression dripping with apology. For a second, he'd naively thought that maybe they would be tame. That maybe things wouldn't be like this with a stranger in the room. Every second that Noctis stayed in the room was a second that Noctis was seeing just how screwed up he was. He turned his back on his dad and Loqi, giving Noctis the full of his attention now. Prompto's face was probably as red as a tomato as he looked at Noctis, but he couldn't help it. He wasn't sure what part of him thought that this was a good idea, but he knew now that it definitely wasn't.

"Maybe, um... maybe we should just go outside." Yeah, they'd just gotten there. But outside, Prompto could apologize to Noctis. Maybe outside, he'd be spared some humiliation when Noctis decided that he didn't want someone like Prompto, who couldn't even stand up to his dad as an _adult_ , hunting with him.

When Noctis agreed, Prompto rushed them out the door, barely passing a glance over his shoulder to look at his dad as he opened the door. When he did, though, the look that he cast Prompto's way made his stomach churn. Seconds later, he'd turned to Loqi, and the pair of them retreated back down the hall to work on whatever project it was that they were working on in his dad's office.

The pair of them retreated back down the stairs, and Prompto glanced apologetically at Noctis once the door to the front step closed behind him. "S-sorry," he started. "I, um... I should've known better. I... I actually thought that he'd want to thank you."

"He didn't even thank _you_. For going all that way to get him a damn crystal," Noctis' voice sounded incredulous as he glared up at the third-floor window of the apartment building.

Prompto shook his head no, casting his eyes down to the ground. "It's... it's fine, though. J-just, you know... I didn't expect him to jump on your case." A brief pause, and he blinked as he looked back up at Noctis. "Why'd you do that? Tell them I deserved a thank you, I mean? It's not like I... I didn't even do anything special," he pointed out.

Scoffing, Noctis shook his head. "You kidding? You went on a _ten-hour train ride_ to get them a crystal. You were gonna face down all those daemons by yourself to cross the beach for it. And all you get is a 'good?' It's bullshit," he pointed out.

It almost made Prompto laugh, because he sounded just like Aranea right there. Even as he'd left the night before, Aranea had told him that he was crazy for going all that way just to get a crystal. He'd have to make a point to head over to their apartment after Cindy got out of work at her granddad's shop. They needed to meet up to hunt tonight, anyway.

"What's so funny?" Noctis asked.

Prompto shrugged. "Just, Aranea tells me that all the time." He half-smiled.

"Sounds like a smart woman," Noctis suggested, shrugging his head to the side.

With a smirk, Prompto shrugged. "Don't let her hear you say that, or she'll list off all the ways she's smart and awesome." It was true, but that was beside the point. His expression and his tone sobered after a beat, and he cast his eyes back down to the ground. "I, um..." A pause to sigh a soft note, and he swallowed thickly. "I just wanted to let you know... if you want to take back that offer you made? To let me come hunt with you? You-"

Noctis cut him off, though. "Why would I do that?"

At first, Prompto just blinked. "I... because of..." he stammered, but then shook off the surprise and pointed over his shoulder into the apartment. "I mean, you said that the daemons would've ripped me to shreds. And they totally tore into you. And-"

Once again, Noctis cut him off. "I also said that daemons would've ripped _anyone_ apart," he pointed out. "Me included. You've seen how they get when Twenty-Five starts." Only pausing for a second, Noctis tapped Prompto on the chin with the back of his finger. "And it takes more than a couple of assholes tearing into me to scare me off. I mean, when I make friends, I make them for keeps." This time, it was _Noctis_ who got sheepish.

Instead of sheepish, though, all Prompto could feel was a swell of shock. Friends? Had he heard that correctly? "Friends?" he asked, his tone a little bit shaky.

"Are we?" Noctis asked.

Prompto blinked. "Do you wanna be?"

Instead of replying with words, Noctis just nodded. Prompto had to be imagining the dusting of pink on his cheeks, because there was no way something as simple as becoming friends with _Prompto_ would make him blush. Right then, though, it didn't matter. Right then, nothing mattered other than the fact that Noctis had just called Prompto his friend. They were friends.

He had another friend.

Prompto couldn't help the smile that spread its way across his face right then, and before he'd even realized what he was doing, he was closing the distance between them and throwing his arms around Noctis' shoulders in a hug. For a second, it was one-sided, but then it wasn't. To his surprise, he felt warm arms wrap around his middle and hug him. It was different from a Cindy hug or an Aranea hug. For one, there was a lot less boob there. Beyond that, though, as much as he loved hugging Cindy or Aranea, their hugs didn't make his chest flutter the way it had been doing increasingly often over the past twenty-four hours.

As loath as he was to let go, he eventually did. Awareness of what he'd done settled in, too, and he was pretty sure his face had never been that warm before. "I'm sorry, I-"

"I-it's okay," Noctis stammered. This time, Prompto _wasn't_ imagining it. Noctis' cheeks were _definitely_ pink. "Friends hug. Right?" he laughed an awkward laugh. But why was _he_ blushing? Probably because Prompto had taken him off guard.

Rather than focus on that, though, Prompto nodded. "Right. Friends do hug," he answered.

After a few seconds where they just smiled at each other—Prompto was pretty sure that his smile was an awkward smirk, because he still couldn't believe that he'd just hugged Noctis like that—Noctis finally spoke up again. "I should... I should go get my car," he pointed out. "It's probably done by now."

Prompto nodded. "Yeah, probably. Cid's... Cid's the best," he explained. "He really seemed to like your car, too. So, he probably, like... rotated your tires and checked your engine for free, too." He laughed a soft laugh.

Noctis laughed, too, a soft, gentle noise that made the pink in Prompto's cheeks deepen against his volition. The smile still in place on his face, he said, "I mean, Nyx keeps the car in pristine condition for me, so he's probably disappointed that there's not a whole lot to do. But if he did little maintenance things, that'd be great." He nodded eagerly.

"Text me? When you want to meet up to hunt, I mean? Or call." Or for any reason, really. But he didn't say that aloud.

Noctis smirked and nodded. "I will. And if you want, you can text me or call me or whatever, whenever. Okay?"

Another wave of heat hit Prompto's cheeks, but he nodded back. "Okay," he answered.

And with that, they said their goodbyes. Prompto watched as Noctis walked back down the street, and the smile softened. Noctis had met his dad. Noctis had met _Loqi_. They hadn't scared him away. After all that, Noctis still wanted to see him again. Maybe the whole mission had been a mess. Maybe nothing about it had gone as planned, but as Prompto watched Noctis retreat around the corner, with trust in the fact that it wouldn't be the last time they spoke, it was hard to call it a real, true disaster.


	7. Regroup

It was almost sundown when Noctis rolled back into Meldacio. As much as he loved driving, being _allowed_ to drive, when he had so much to think about, when everything that had happened over the past day or so swirled into a torrential tornado in his mind and almost made him lose focus a few times as he drove. There were still so many questions. That other Pelna, the burgundy-haired stranger and the headache he caused, the fire-coated being that had fought off the daemons for them... was it even possible for Cor and the others to _have_ the answers? If Cor knew about stuff like that, he almost definitely would've told the rest of them. Right?

And that wasn't even to mention his weird dream. Really, though, that was inconsequential, wasn't it? His hunting team didn't need to hear things about his dreams, no matter how weird they were. No matter how real they felt and how much it felt like he'd actually _been_ in that Crystal Space place, whatever it was. He pulled in a sigh, then pushed it back out, in an attempt to push those thoughts and questions from his mind before he met up with the others.

When he stepped out of his car, he wasn't even sure where to begin giving his report to Cor. How did he recount everything that had happened? Pulling his jacket back over his shoulders—it was way colder under the rocky cover of the hunter HQ than it was in Hammerhead or in his car—he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked around.

It was pretty quiet here, given how close it was to nightfall. There were a few people out; Dave was there, and so were a couple of others. For the most part, though, it was a lot quieter than usual. Normally, at this time of night, people were getting ready to spend the rest of the night hunting daemons, at least until they got tired. Right then, though, the few people who were out and about paced, almost like someone had sent out an SOS call. There was no SOS siren, though, so there wasn't much chance of that. He took another glance around, pausing when his eyes fell upon the rapidly setting sun, and stretched his shoulders.

He didn't have time to rest before the crew went out for the night's hunt. Honestly, he probably barely had enough time to meet up with Cor and the others and have them brief him, before they had to take off. It didn't matter. He'd gone longer with less sleep than this, as much as he really would _appreciate_ a full night's sleep. He turned toward the cabin that his group usually rested in, and blinked in surprise when he saw Nyx hurrying toward him in a jogging step. A slight hint of worry lined his features, as well as the tiniest bit of annoyance, and he stopped right as he reached Noctis, looking him over and grunting.

"Shit, Noct, it's about time! We were about to mount a damned search and rescue if you didn't get back soon," Nyx murmured, in lieu of a greeting, as he clapped a hand on Noctis' shoulder. "Luna's been worried sick! I'm pretty sure there's a worn out spot on the rug from when she was pacing."

Noctis huffed a humorless laugh and put his hands in the air in a silent apology. "Some stuff happened and I ended up having to take a detour to Hammerhead," he explained.

With an incredulous look in his eye, Nyx took his hand from Noctis' shoulder and wrapped his arm around both shoulders instead. "Hammerhead, huh? Yeah, that's a little out of the way. Why'd you have to go out there?" The frustration and indignation was gone now, replaced with the fond friendliness that Nyx always cast Noctis' way.

However, Noctis didn't answer right off. Maybe he could've told Nyx about Prompto and how he could function in Twenty-Five right then and there. In fact, maybe he should have. He didn't, though. He decided to wait until he was inside with the whole crew, to tell everyone together so that he didn't have to repeat it a thousand times. It had been a hell of a long night and he was exhausted, so he wanted to take care of the night's operation before he got much _more_ tired. Telling the story once would take well into nighttime. Plus, once he got to the part about Pelna... well, he only wanted to have to break his friend's heart once. Guilt shot him in the chest like a lightning bolt, and he looked down at the ground, away from Nyx, as they walked.

Breathing in deeply and letting it out slowly, he shrugged a shoulder underneath Nyx's hand. "It's... a really long story," he murmured. "I'd rather tell it just once."

Nyx nodded in understanding, then continued leading Noctis to the cabin with an arm around his shoulders. "Iggy and his crew are here, by the way. Weskham brought 'em over, because the readings Luna's been getting over the past few nights suggest that there'll be another massive daemon spike somewhere. One that we'll need to take care of when Twenty-Five rolls around."

As much as Noctis wanted to be happy that Ignis, Gladio, and Iris were here, he was only partway there. It would be nice to see Ignis and Iris again. Hell, it would even be nice to see _Gladio_ again, even if he didn't talk to Noctis much. There was still a huge part of Noctis that missed his old friend; that missed when the whole group of them were a huge family. Worry leaped up from his stomach to his chest, and made him glance back at Nyx again.

"It'll be alright, Noct," Nyx promised. "Iggy said that he asked Gladio to behave."

Shrugging his shoulders, Noctis nodded his head in acknowledgment. Whether Gladio "behaved" or not was irrelevant. Sometimes, the hardest thing to deal with were the silences. The stares and the unspoken questions between them. No matter how they tried, though, they couldn't seem to get through a conversation to _ask_ the questions without arguing. Sadness formed a knot in Noctis' chest, but he pulled in a steadying breath as Nyx opened the door to the cabin.

The literal second Nyx pushed him through the door with a declaration of, "look what the cat dragged in!" Noctis felt every single eye in the room turn toward him.

Ducking his head bashfully, Noctis waved a one-handed wave at his friends, but he was immediately knocked almost on his ass by the familiar warmth of a pair of small arms wrapped around him. Luna and Iris were both on their feet, but Iris got there first, and she squeezed Noctis in the tightest hug imaginable. "Noct!" she shouted excitedly. "Long time no see!"

"Not just for you," Crowe remarked sarcastically from where she sat in the chair next to the one Iris had just left. "I mean, damn, Noct. I think Luna paced the floor about five hundred times, she was so worried."

Noctis hugged Iris back, internally marveling at the fact that today, he'd received more hugs than he'd had in one day, in a long time. "Sorry guys. I had to take a detour, and it ended me up in Hammerhead for a couple hours." He patted Iris on the back, smiling as he released her and she bounded over to sit next to Crowe again.

From her position leaning against Nyx, Luna huffed. "And you couldn't call?"

Honestly, Noctis had no retort to that. She was probably right. He could have called. So much had happened, though, that he'd lost track of time. "Sorry, Luna. I just... it was a long night." He placed a hand on her arm and, when she smiled a soft smile at him, he responded in kind. "Hey Specs, hey Big Guy."

"Good to see you, Noct," Ignis responded with a gentle smile. No matter what Gladio felt, it was good to know that Ignis had never started to hate him.

Gladio's response was as expected, though. A tense raise of his chin and a murmur of, "Noct," without really looking up from the Cup Noodle cup he held in his hand. A tiny layer of sadness coated Gladio's face, but he tried to drown it out with nonchalance. Just like he always did when he was face to face with Noctis. It was okay. Noctis would take it. That was as close to a real greeting as Noctis ever expected to get from Gladio again. That didn't change that it made him sad, though.

From the other side of the room, Cor and Weskham looked up from a map of Lucis, turning their attention to Noctis. "So, how were things in Piztala? You said it was a long night, did you run into trouble?" Cor asked, turning in his spinning chair and leaning sideways against the desk. He looked tired. Like he hadn't slept much the night before, either. Honestly, though, Cor looked like that most of the time. Sometimes, Noctis found himself wondering if he'd gotten any rest in the past year.

Noctis supposed, being forced to the sidelines in the way that Cor had—the injuries that both Cor and Weskham had sustained on the night that Noctis and Gladio's dads died had pushed them both to the sidelines, to be coordinators instead of warriors—was probably tiring. He was awake for just as long as the rest of the team was, talking on their specially developed communications system with Luna, worrying about them while they carried out their operations. Going through the long nights worrying while the group was out had to be trying on Cor, and on Weskham. Someday, Noctis resolved, he'd do something for them to properly thank them.

For now, though, he nodded to Cor's question instead. Scratching a hand through his hair, he heaved a heavy sigh and started to tell the story of what had happened the night before. The looks he got when he spoke of Prompto and the mission he was on to get a crystal for his dad, and the fact that he was another person who could function in Hour Twenty-Five, were more than surprised. Cor and Weskham immediately sat at attention when he got to that part, when he explained that Prompto had no idea.

"So, the lad had no idea of his ability to function in Hour Twenty-Five, then?" Weskham asked, gathering a notebook and scribbling something down. "What was his name? First and last."

Noctis shook his head. "I didn't get a last name. But his first name is Prompto," he explained, watching as Weskham wrote it down. "And no. He didn't even know that Hour Twenty-Five existed. I had to tell him everything we know about it-"

Crowe interjected, "everything we _don't_ know, you mean?" with a wry half-smile.

"-right. Everything we _don't_ know," Noctis mused, finally sliding into a chair between Ignis and Iris. "And he came with me to the overlook that you told me to go to. But that was when things got really weird."

Accepting the notebook when Weskham handed it to him, Cor grabbed a pen of his own from the desk. "Go on, Noct," he directed, wrapping his fingers around the pen and jotting down bits and bobs of what Noctis had already told them.

So, Noctis did. He explained everything that happened on the cove; the crazy readings that he got on the binoculars, and how the red reading—the first red reading he'd ever seen—was in the shape of a person. After that, his expression drew down into a frown, and his eyes sought Crowe and Nyx out in the room. This part, he suspected, would be the hardest part of the story to tell. He still didn't fully understand it, and he still didn't know how much of it his friends would even _believe_ , honestly. Raking his teeth over his lip, he pulled in a deep and steadying breath, and continued.

"And when we left the cave, we were face to face with... well, I'm not sure _what_ it was. But... it looked like Pelna."

Noctis could almost hear the shift in the air when Crowe whipped her head to look at him. Nyx, too, looked at him from across the room, with an incredulous look on his face. "Pelna?!" he asked. "It looked like Pelna..."

"Pelna's dead," Gladio pointed out, his voice a low rumble of disbelief as he looked Noctis over. Honestly, Noctis had expected doubt from all directions, but having it coming from Gladio was just slightly more upsetting.

And that showed plainly when Noctis answered, "I _know_ that. That's why... that's why I was shocked, you know?" He turned and looked away from Gladio, glancing at the ground and frowning. "He looked like Pelna. Literally, just like him, except his eyes were red. And he could command the daemons. He told a thunder bomb to attack us. And he called other daemons over."

Cor, too, looked incredulous. "This doesn't sound like anything I've heard before," he pointed out.

As soon as the words escaped, though, Weskham spoke up on Noctis' defense. "We asked the lad for his report, Gladiolus, Cor. The least we can do is respect him enough to listen until it is finished."

"Besides," Ignis, too, spoke up, "the amount we know about Hour Twenty-Five could very easily fit into a thimble and still have room. Who's to say that what Noctis is saying isn't the truth? Surely there have to be things that even Cor and Weskham have never seen, despite how long they've been fighting." He cast Gladio a pointed look, reprimanding, almost like Gladio had somehow broken the promise he'd made.

Noctis wanted to look grateful for the support, but he couldn't. Because, if Cor and Gladio didn't believe him _now_ , it would only get worse when he continued. Still, he folded his hands and steepled his thumbs, tapping them together as he continued. He relayed what the other Pelna told him, that he was-but-wasn't Pelna, and that he'd said that he'd taken Pelna's place. It still made just as little sense right now as it had when Pelna had said it earlier. And it was frustrating, too, because he _knew_ that it made no sense. Especially given the fact that Pelna had been dead for a year, and this was the first sign that they were seeing of this high-daemon-reading version of Pelna that took his place. It stood to reason that, if he'd been out there, just waiting for a chance to strike, Luna would have sensed him by now.

Luna, after all, had a mysterious and innate capability to sense spikes in daemon activity. How and where it came from, no one knew. Some nights, though, when they weren't on spec ops missions, and were just taking on normal hunts for towns with no proper defenses, Luna would interrupt them in the middle of a mission and tell them that she felt a strong influx of daemon activity. She instinctively knew where it came from, for some unknown reason, and she was never, ever wrong. As useful as it was, though, for some reason—a reason that not even doctors could identify—it kept her weak; made her sick. She wasn't dying, at least not in the traditional sense—not that Noctis knew of, anyway—but it _did_ force her to stay behind while the rest of the team continued on and fought the daemons she sensed. And she could always sense them.

She definitely would have sensed the other Pelna, which was why the doubting and questioning looks around the room frustrated him all the more. "I know it's crazy, and I know you probably don't... you don't really have a _reason_ to believe me, but I'm not lying." Why would he lie?

Luna spoke up, casting him a gentle look and flashing him a kind smile. "I don't think you'd lie, Noctis," she promised.

To his right, Iris agreed with a nod. "Me either," she told him.

"Thanks," Noctis murmured, glancing at Luna. "I'm glad because... you're probably even less likely to believe what I have to say next."

The sigh that followed was heavy, steadying, and he was careful to avoid Gladio and Cor's gaze when he continued the story. He told them of how the other Pelna commanded the daemons to attack him, and the flame-coated being and the man who'd summoned him. Of how he'd appeared in a flourish of fire and held the other Pelna off so that Noctis and the stranger could fight the daemons. Of how when the flame-coated being had killed the other Pelna, the other Pelna had burst into a poof like a daemon. Of how the stranger had so _effortlessly_ defeated all of those daemons, and how afterward, he'd more or less refused to give Noctis any information on who he was. He didn't, however, mention the headache, or the dream, or Crystal Space or the strange woman. What he'd shared already made him sound insane, he was sure. He didn't need them doubting him any more than they already did.

When he dared to look up, at the varying emotions on his friends' faces—everywhere to questioning, to worry, to doubting—he finally said, "and when Prompto woke up at sunup, we went to the beach to get the crystals for his dad. It turned out, they were shattered pieces of someone's Hour Twenty-Five crystal, and I've got no idea what he would want one of those for, but he-"

"Shattered pieces of someone's crystal?" Cor spoke up, jotting that down in the notebook. "I know that they're used to make technology Twenty-Five compatible. There are several more undocumented uses, too. Less honest ones. Scientists send people to collect them, but it's not exactly common, because of what collecting them entails. It's seen as inhumane, as it's effectively a piece of someone's corpse."

Noctis paused and blinked. He hadn't actually thought of that, really. "Prompto didn't know what he wanted them for," he pointed out, feeling the need to defend his new friend's intentions.

He couldn't imagine Prompto willingly collecting the crystal of someone who had either died or been turned into a daemon. Then again, the situation with Prompto's dad made Noctis wonder if he would have had a choice in the matter. The man wasn't exactly the kindest to Prompto. Part of him wondered what Prompto was doing now. Was he getting ready to hunt, too?

"Do you know how to get in touch with him?" Weskham asked.

Noctis nodded. "Yeah, he gave me his number," he explained, raising his shoulders in a shrug. "Why?"

Standing, Weskham walked in a labored limp, over to the other side of the room where a shelf lined with books rested. "I may need you to call him for me, sometime over the next couple of days. I would like to speak to his father, and find out what he needed those crystals for," he suggested. "Gladiolus, Ignis, Iris, we'll be with the others until we get to the bottom of the increase in daemon readings and put a stop to what's causing it, understood?"

Ignis and Iris nodded, but when Noctis glanced at Gladio, he couldn't help but notice that Gladio was staring right back at him. The stare was awkward for a moment; a different kind of gaze than Noctis had gotten used to from Gladio over the past year or so. Tense, but not angry. Maybe there was a little sadness in there, a little worry.

Weskham approached Noctis on his way back to the desk, smiling as he placed a hand on Noctis' shoulder. "Thank you, lad. For the information, and for taking the time to go all the way to Niflheim to find it."

"Yeah, I appreciate it," Cor agreed.

Shaking his head and dismissing the gratitude, Noctis finally tore his eyes from Gladio, even though he could feel the other man's piercing gaze staring at him from across the room. "It's no big deal," he insisted.

A few seconds later, once everyone had started going about their business again, Luna stood up in a very sharp and abrupt motion. She glanced around the room like she was looking for something, then staggered a bit, almost tripping over Nyx's legs. Nyx reached out and supported her before she fell, standing up and helping her to her feet. "Luna? Babe, are you okay?" he asked her, his arms wrapped around her middle as he allowed her to lean into him.

"Yes. Yes, I..." She stammered, holding her hands out to abate the concerned looks that everyone was throwing her way. "I'm fine. I just got a strong reading."

Cor was on his feet then, too, and at Luna's side. "Where from, Lunafreya?" he asked her calmly, gently, motioning for Nyx to guide her toward the map.

As Luna leaned over the map, she muttered, "the east. A ways away," in a slightly hazy voice. "It's... it's coming from this region."

Noctis approached the map, standing between Weskham and Luna. When he glanced down toward the map, at where Luna was pointing, his eyes widened. "That's Hammerhead..." he muttered.


	8. Secrecy

"Well _I'll_ be dipped! Sounds to me like our little Prompto's gone and got himself a li'l crush!" Cindy beamed as she leaned over the small engine on her Bioblaster, pointing her screwdriver at Prompto. "It's about darn time, too. I was startin' to wonder if you were ever gonna step up to the plate, or if Ara and I were gonna have to set you up on a blind date or somethin'!"

Prompto blinked at Cindy, shaking his head no from his seat on the other side of the living room. "It's not a crush, Cin," he insisted, shaking his head adamantly. Despite what he was saying, though, he felt his cheeks heating up. "He saved my life, and then he helped me get the crystals for my dad. I barely know him, anyway. Way too soon to have any kind of crush."

If it was a crush, Prompto would know. He wasn't a stranger to crushes. He'd had crushes before, plenty of times. In school, or even after he'd graduated. On boys or girls that he was way, way too nervous to ever talk to, with the obvious exception of one. That was actually how his friendship with Cindy had started so many years ago. Granted, it was a silly teenage crush on someone who was significantly older than him, and as time went on, their friendship had developed into something more like siblings. Once the crush went away, Prompto had been the biggest, most adamant supporter of the idea of Cindy hooking up with Aranea. Aranea had been to Cindy, what Cindy was to Prompto when he was a teenager: that cool older girl who she looked up to, but also sighed over in quiet moments. Prompto, as someone who had been in that very situation many times, was the perfect person to help.

Four years later, and Aranea and Cindy were still together. Prompto had never been prouder of anything in his life, than he was of the fact that he'd been able to help Cindy get together with the woman she'd spent most of her natural life in love with.

Now, though, with Prompto talking about Noctis, the pair of them seemed to be latching onto the idea that he had some kind of crush. He huffed a sigh, checking his ammo one last time. The sun was nearing the horizon, which meant that there was less than an hour until they needed to leave to hunt. After Noctis left that morning, Prompto had only bothered to go back into his dad's apartment long enough to get a change of clothes, some more film for his camera, and to make the call to the optician that Noctis had given him the number to. After that, and after a short goodbye to his dad and Loqi, he'd headed to Cindy and Aranea's apartment. He'd let himself in, using the key that they gave him, and crashed on their couch for a quick nap.

Or at least, it was supposed to be a quick nap. It ended up being a five-hour sleep, that was only interrupted when the girls got home.

Aranea crossed the room, setting a can of soda and a plate of pasta in front of Prompto and ticking her shoulder up in a shrug. "Don't treat us like we're dumb, Skinny," she commented, sliding onto the couch on Prompto's left. He'd been napping there until about a half hour ago. "I've known you for a long time. Never seen you stare at your phone like a happy little puppy dog staring at a treat, just because you got someone's phone number."

"If that ain't a crush, then I don't know what is," Cindy commented, stepping away from her weapon maintenance to eat some dinner before they had to leave for the night. Pasta and water in each of her hands, and she slid onto the other side of the couch, flanking Prompto and making it impossible to escape this line of questioning. "So, tell us about 'im. Is he cute?"

Rather than answer right away, Prompto busied himself with twirling some pasta onto his fork and stuffing it into his mouth. Was Noctis cute? Cute didn't really seem right. Cute was how you described someone that made you say 'aw,' someone younger or someone soft or innocent. Not someone with an expandable sword and a leather jacket, who had fought daemons every night since they were thirteen years old. Not someone with dark blue eyes and dark hair and pale skin, who hugged Prompto and made his insides twist like he was on a roller coaster.

With that in mind, he turned to look at Cindy and answered. "No. Not cute."

The words were supposed to sound confident, but at the same time, he thought of the way that Noctis had fallen asleep against his shoulder on the train. That was cute. He'd looked so vulnerable then. And he'd actually managed to trust Prompto within hours of meeting him. Prompto was absolutely unaware of the way his cheeks were heating up, dusting with red. Noctis _was_ cute. He was also more than cute, though. Like when he flashed Prompto that little smirk that made his insides twist and flip like some kind of weird dance. There was also the fact that, in one night, he'd managed to make Prompto feel better than anyone who wasn't Cindy or Aranea or Cid had in his entire life.

 _Damn it..._ He had a crush, didn't he?

"I think you're lying to me," Cindy insisted, pointing her fork at Prompto now. "Your voice is doing that thing that it does when you're lying. So, I'll ask ya again. Is he cute?"

Aranea huffed a soft laugh, leaning forward and peering past Prompto to flash Cindy a knowing smirk. "We know he's lying, Cin. Look at how red his face is right now. He's in full-on Freckles The Red Faced Clown mode." Nudging Prompto with her elbow, she shrugged her head to the side. "Is he nice?" The tone in her voice was gentle, but it was also appraising. Aranea, more so than Cindy, was protective of Prompto. Prompto sometimes thought that she was the only person that his dad and Loqi were intimidated by. Whenever she was around, they never did their thing. They never tore into him.

For the most part, they ignored him, sure, but that was way better.

To Aranea's question, Prompto had a simple answer. He may have been red-faced and embarrassed, but he was at least together enough to answer that question confidently. "Very," he answered, twirling more pasta on his fork and looking at it for a couple of seconds, before biting it. "Like, very-very. I mentioned that he helped me get my dad's crystal. He didn't have to do that. And he... he bought me breakfast and put me in touch with a guy in Altissia to get these fixed." Motioning to his cracked glasses, Prompto raked his teeth over his lip. "And he stood up for me. To my dad and Loqi. S-so... so yeah, he's nice."

In stark contrast to Aranea, Cindy's voice was sweet and gentle as she took another forkful of pasta. "Cute _and_ nice."

"And apparently a 'badass daemon hunter,' too," Aranea added, smirking wryly.

A badass daemon hunter; the _biggest_ badass daemon hunter that Prompto had ever met. There were so many details about what had happened the night prior that Prompto wanted to tell Cindy and Aranea that he couldn't. The Hour Twenty-Five thing, how Noctis had trusted him enough to tell him all he knew about this weird time-that-wasn't-time, and how he'd protected Prompto through it all. He couldn't, though. They'd never believe him.

It was okay, though. For now, he'd told them enough.

Maybe they were trying to make him see that he had a crush, and to that end, they'd succeeded. Unfortunately, along with that realization, came something really, really unfortunate. Literally, no one that he had ever had feelings for, no one that he ever had crushes on, ever had crushes or feelings in return. Twenty years old, and Prompto had never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend or even any _potential_ boyfriends or girlfriends in his life. Anyone, other than Aranea or Cindy, that he even befriended, were always scared away when they met his dad or Loqi. The closest that he'd ever come to dating someone was Cindy, and even _that_ had never really been close. Not that he had a problem with that; he loved Cindy like a sister. That didn't change, though, that he was a complete idiot when it came to things like this. If he _did_ have a crush, Noctis could never find out.

Shaking his bangs back from his face, Prompto reached to the table and picked his soda up. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I barely know him. I'm just glad he's my friend." And that much wasn't a lie. Making a friend, no matter how much he made Prompto's insides twist and knot up, was amazing; was enough to celebrate.

Cindy seemed to get the hint, at least, and she smiled softly at him, nudging him with her shoulder. "Told ya it was easy to make friends if you just tried. All it took was one night and you're already exchanging numbers with someone, and he's offering to take you on hunts with him! Our li'l Prompto's all grown up, Nea!"

Chuckling softly, Aranea nodded, standing up to discard her empty plate to the sink. "I'm proud of you, Skinny," she told him.

Maybe to someone else, that would have sounded teasing. To him, from Aranea and Cindy, it really wasn't. They knew how hard it was for Prompto to talk to new people. He'd managed. As astounding as it was, he'd managed and he'd managed not to put his foot too far in his mouth. "Gotta admit," he started, "I kinda feel like I can take on the world tonight. I don't think I'm gonna take my sleep meds tonight. I don't need them. I didn't need them last night and-"

He stopped abruptly, when he realized that Aranea and Cindy were flashing one another weirdly concerned looks. The decision wasn't one that he was making just because he was tired of going to sleep at eleven at night every night against his will, though. It was because, according to Cindy and Aranea, they often hunted until one or two in the morning. The thought had occurred to him earlier that day, when Cindy had mentioned that her grandfather had heard reports of a couple of goblin groups that were getting closer to the town lines. Cindy had said that he'd asked them to tend to the groups, and she'd agreed, knowing that Aranea and Prompto would have no problem with it.

One problem, of course, presented itself. And that came in the form of Hour Twenty-Five. If they were out and hunting when hour Twenty-Five hit, they'd be sitting ducks while they were in crystal form. How, up until this point, they'd managed to stay out that late and never have their crystals broken by daemons, Prompto would never know. From now on, though, he decided that he was going to forego the pills, and spend the extra hour aware enough to prevent that from happening.

Cindy was the first to look at Prompto again, and she tilted her head to the side. "So, you're gonna stay out past midnight with us, then? Won't your dad be mad?"

Admittedly, that was almost enough to get him to balk. It wasn't, though. Not this time. A multitude of factors went into his decision, honestly. One of them was the fact that he wanted to protect the Cindy and Aranea's crystals. Another was the fact that he wanted to see what Hammerhead looked like during Hour Twenty-Five. The third? Well, the third was that he wanted to prove to himself that he was strong enough to go with Noctis whenever Noctis wanted to hunt together.

"Maybe," he finally answered. "But I didn't take them last night, and I didn't have trouble sleeping. I feel okay right now. So, maybe it'll be okay."

The smile on Cindy's face wasn't quite one of her usual, easy smiles. Prompto thought that maybe she was trying to think of a way to let him down easy, but after exchanging a quick nod with Aranea, she turned to glance at Prompto and smiled a little bit more genuinely at him. "Alright! Maybe this'll be the start of a new era, huh? When you don't need them nasty little pills anymore." She stood, depositing her plate in the sink and moving back to her Bioblaster, making a couple of last minute adjustments to the huge piece of machinery. If he hadn't seen her carry it around with his own eyes, he'd definitely wonder how she did it.

The next couple of hours passed with all three of them chatting and checking their weapons over. Prompto cleaned his guns on the workbench that Cindy had set aside for him, and checked to see how much spare ammo he had. For tonight, he'd be fine. Tomorrow, he'd have to go to the hobby shop and what kind of deal Wedge and Biggs would cut him this time. Cindy finished tweaking her Bioblaster, and Aranea sharpened the tip to her spear, and then the three of them headed out for the night.

As Prompto holstered his pistols, he was surprised to hear his phone going off in his bag. Most of the time, when his phone went off at night like this, it was his father reminding him to take his medication. Because of that, he almost ignored it. He almost let his phone sit in his bag. If he did that, though, he was sure that when he went home the next day, his dad would be _really_ mad. With that in mind, he reached into his pocket and took his phone out, glancing at the screen. One missed message. From _Noctis_! Blinking, he raised his eyes to look at Aranea and Cindy, thankful to notice that they were too distracted with their conversation to pay him much mind. Raking his teeth over his lip, he opened the message.

 **From: Noctis**  
hey. you guys out hunting tonight?

 **To: Noctis**  
yeah. on our way out right now. why, what's up?

There was a long delay between messages. Long enough for Prompto to make it out of Aranea and Cindy's building and down to the corner. Honestly, they looked a pretty amusing sight. Aranea carried her spear, not even bothering to fold it in. Cindy's Bioblaster hung from her back like a large, metallic backpack. Prompto had visible gun holsters at his waist, with a pistol in each. It was almost enough to make him feel as badass as Noctis. Almost, but not quite. If not for the fact that everyone in town was used to seeing them walk down the street together like this, people probably would have been alarmed by them. Fortunately, most people didn't really spare them much more than a passing glance. As far as hunters in Hammerhead went, Aranea, Cindy, and Prompto were the most well-known. They walked through town like this every night, after all.

When they got to the corner by Wedge and Biggs' hobby shop, Prompto's phone went off in his pocket again.

**From: Noctis**  
any chance i could convince you to stay home?

**To: Noctis**  
no? wait why? what's up?

Prompto found his steps slowing a little bit more. Aranea and Cindy didn't slow to match, however. They got a little bit further ahead of him, which he only realized when they rounded the corner at the end of the block. He picked up his step, jogging to catch up, but turning his eyes to his phone every couple of steps. Why would Noctis want to convince him to stay home? When his phone went off, before he turned to look at the message, he noticed that Cindy was turning to look at him.

**From: Noctis**  
remember how i told you about luna? how she knows about daemon hotspots and stuff? she got some readings out that way.

**To: Noctis**  
oh. um... hold on.

"Messages from your paw?" Cindy asked, and when Prompto looked up from his phone, he noticed that both she and Aranea had stopped and they were both looking at Prompto expectantly.

Prompto shook his head no. "They're, um... they're from Noctis, actually." 

He turned his head back down to his phone, wondering exactly how he was supposed to broach the topic about Noctis' friend Luna. He didn't really know Noctis' team; _Noctis_ didn't even know how his friend Luna could sense daemons or when or where they were coming. There were too many unknowns, too many questions and not enough answers, and Aranea, as great as she was, was very much the type who didn't like to make rash or snap decisions until she'd seen everything with her own eyes, and learned everything there was to learn.

"Couldn't wait, huh? What's he got to say? Flirting-"

Once again, Prompto shook his head no. "No, I, um... you see... uh... he's asking me if-"

In two striding steps, Aranea was in front of him, with a hand on each of his shoulders. Speaking with a voice that Aranea commonly used when Prompto started to stammer—far more gentle than his father's scrutiny, but far less gentle than the way Cindy treated him when he was like this—she calmed him. "Prompto, it's me, okay? You don't have to be nervous," she pointed out.

Blinking, Prompto nodded. "Right," he agreed, calming himself as best he could. As comfortable as he was around Aranea, though, he still didn't exactly know how to broach the topic. It wasn't like it was an easy one. Instead, he offered his phone out to Aranea. "Um... here. You can read it."

Removing her right hand from his shoulder, she accepted the phone and scrolled up through his messages. Turning slightly so that she was glancing at Cindy, she beckoned to the phone. "Says there's high daemon readings outside the city. Who's Luna?" she asked Prompto.

"A friend of his," Prompto explained. "A member of his team who can sense daemons."

Going into more detail than that would mean that he would have to go into detail about Hour Twenty-Five, and if Aranea and Cindy didn't believe him about Noctis' friend Luna being able to sense daemons, then chances were small that they would believe him about an hour that stopped time and made daemons stronger, weren't they? Nervously, he looked between Aranea and Cindy, trying to decode exactly what he was supposed to do or say; how he could convince his friends that Noctis was telling the truth.

Arching an eyebrow, Cindy asked, "how d'you sense daemons? I mean, I know there's a lot we don't know about-" she stopped abruptly, blinking a couple of times and then continuing- "about daemons and all that, but... sensin' 'em seems downright impossible. If it was, imagine how easy it'd make hunting?"

"He wouldn't lie." Prompto didn't know Noctis well, but he did know that much.

Aranea, though, shook her head. "We can't take a night off," she pointed out. "Cid asked us to take out those goblins. They've been getting closer to the city each night, right? So, what if today's the day they finally climb the fence?" She pointed over her shoulder at the high, chain-link fence that surrounded the city. In her hand, Prompto's phone went off again. "You can stay behind if you want. But I'm not."

Of course, Aranea wasn't wrong. But if Aranea was insisting on going out, Cindy would insist on going out, too. And if both of them were out there, then Prompto _definitely_ couldn't just stay behind and let them go out on their own. Especially not if there was some big daemon reading around. Noctis had said that daemons got meaner when Hour Twenty-Five came around, so... they'd be in _really_ big trouble.

"No," Prompto answered, sounding a little bit concerned all the same. "No, I'm coming with you guys."

Cindy smiled a tense-but-comforting smile at Prompto, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. "Ain't a daemon out there that stands a chance against us, anyway. We got this, guys. Just gotta tell your friend not to worry so much, right?" she turned then, grabbed Prompto's phone from Aranea's hand, and handed it back to Prompto.

**To: Noctis**  
couldn't convince them. but i can't really let them go out alone either. they get crystallized, they're really in trouble.

**From: Noctis**  
damn it. alright. my crew and i are on the way to hammerhead; about halfway there. so... just stay safe, alright? we'll be there as soon as possible.

**To: Noctis**  
okay

How could he, by himself, keep them safe after midnight struck? And how long would it take Noctis to get to Hammerhead from wherever he was? Those thoughts swirled around in Prompto's head as he followed behind Cindy and Aranea to get out of the city. The sky had completely darkened by the time they found the first group of goblins. The goblins weren't what caught his attention, though. In his periphery, a little ways across the desert, he spotted exactly what Noctis had been talking about. It was enough to make him stop in his tracks.

They were far enough away that the group's movements didn't draw their attention, but Prompto could see them clearly. Not quite as many daemons as he'd seen on the beach the night before, but there then again, it wasn't Hour Twenty-Five yet. Even now though, he could see the trio of reaper daemons, surrounded by several bombs—ice and thunder—and a trio of necromancers. All in a small area. Just like last night. Did that mean that there was going to be another person-shaped daemon in the middle of the group? Prompto turned to see Cindy and Aranea looking back at him expectantly.

Prompto had a really, really bad feeling about this, but he followed behind them all the same.

The first group of goblins went down without issue. They were weak, easy to take down. The only thing that made it take more than five minutes was the fact that they wouldn't stop running. It made it hard for Prompto to get a good bead on them to shoot, and made it hard for Cindy to get close enough to blast them. They'd managed, though Aranea had carried most of the load. However, their retreat had led Prompto, Aranea, and Cindy uncomfortably close to the large group of daemons. Quietly, they put some more distance between them and the group, fortunately before they were noticed.

It took them just over three hours to clear out four of the six groups. The longest, most difficult part was _locating_ the monsters, honestly. Eleven o'clock passed, and Prompto's alarm went off, warning him to take his pill so it would go into effect before midnight. The pill bottle was in his bag, but he merely shut the alarm off.

Aranea and Cindy stopped to glance at each other, once again sharing a moment of silent communication that Prompto didn't quite understand. For the first time in a long time, he almost felt like he was an outsider on his own team. He didn't say anything, though. Didn't complain. They were allowed their secrets. Prompto followed behind, and together they took out the fifth group of goblins. Maybe, if they finished before midnight struck, Prompto wouldn't have to worry. Maybe everything would be okay. A glance at his watch, though, told him that it was getting dangerously close to being impossible.

11:45. They had fifteen minutes to find and kill the last group of goblins before midnight struck and they were really in trouble. Strangely, for some unknown reason, Aranea and Cindy seemed similarly concerned with the time. Aranea kept looking at her watch, then at Prompto, like she was worried about something.

It was 11:50 when they located the group, and Prompto was _really_ starting to worry. Aranea and Cindy, too, seemed really, really concerned about multiple things. The group of goblins was _very_ close to the large group of out-of-place daemons. If they weren't quick enough, and they caught the attention of the large group, then midnight struck? They would be in serious danger. Prompto eyed the horizon, hoping for some sign of Noctis and his crew. There was nothing.

All he could really do was focus, and try to ensure that they took the goblin daemons out quickly.

11:53. A goblin climbed a tree, evading each and every shot that Prompto fired its way. Cindy struggled to get close enough to fire a single shot. 11:55. Aranea pinned a daemon to the ground with her spear and Cindy fired on it, finally making their first kill of the group. 11:57. A goblin lunged at Prompto, knocking him to the ground, but giving him a clear shot at its head when it jumped and danced in mockery on the other side of him. Two down, three to go. By 11:59, though, they'd made no more headway than that. A goblin had stolen Aranea's spear and dragged it up a nearby tree. A second leaped in a circle around Prompto. Mocking. Taunting. The last stood on top on Cindy's Bioblaster, laughing and mocking her.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

The air shifted again. Prompto could feel it this time. The green aura overtook the area around them, Prompto's watch died again, the sky darkened and everything felt dead. Everything, that was, except for Cindy and Aranea. Prompto blinked in amazement when his friends didn't crystallize. "Wh-"

Prompto didn't get a chance to finish his question. He didn't get a chance to finish the first _word_. A loud shriek interrupted him before he could ask; the goblin standing atop Cindy's weapon screamed out, and over his shoulder, he heard a whole chorus of daemons responding to the call. Prompto wasn't sure how his friends were still aware, but he was sure of one thing, as the three of them exchanged astounded looks.

They were in a _world_ of trouble.


	9. Summoning

Driving around at night, with daemon-proof headlights, when no one else was on the road, meant that Noctis was free to speed. Maybe double the speed limit was a little much, especially since he kept losing Ignis around corners, and Luna and Nyx kept yelling at him to slow down. He couldn't, though. They were making good time. It wasn't _quite_ Hour Twenty-Five yet. If they hurried, they could get to Hammerhead before Prompto's friends crystallized; before they were in real trouble.

Crowe seemed to understand. She sat in the passenger's seat, her head turned over her shoulder to glance at Luna. "Guys, for once we can _stop_ people from getting busted out of their crystals. We can stop more daemons from being made! I'm fine with Noct driving this fast, as long as he doesn't crash us into Longwythe Peak or something," she explained, turning back to flash Noctis a pointed glance.

Against his volition, Noctis laughed a bit. Okay, so she _partially_ got it. Yeah, there was the obvious benefit of saving Prompto's friends from getting forced from their crystals. Noctis couldn't deny that he'd be glad to prevent that. But the shadow spike, and the rapidly approaching Hour Twenty-Five, meant that Prompto would be all by himself to try and _protect_ those crystals. By himself. Against Astrals only knew how many daemons. So, yeah, it was about protecting Prompto's friends, but they were strangers to Noctis. To Noctis, it was more about protecting _Prompto_. Selfish, maybe, but he'd never claimed to be anything but. It had Noctis pushing even harder on the gas pedal, losing Ignis, Gladio, and Iris a little bit more with the speed.

"If I crashed us into Longwythe Peak, we _really_ wouldn't be able to take them out. Besides, I'm a good enough driver to get us there in one piece," Noctis countered, catching Crowe's incredulous look from the corner of his eye.

The brunette snorted a laugh. "Pretty sure Nyx has premature white hairs that disagree with you. How about that super sharp turn you took back in Cauthess that almost ended us up in a ditch?" she muttered, motioning over her shoulder with her thumb—either to Nyx or to Cauthess—then quirked her lips into a smirk.

Nyx grunted his disapproval from the backseat. "I do _not_ have white hairs, Crowe," he snarled.

Chuckling softly, Noctis shrugged a shoulder. "I mean, there's gotta be a reason why you keep it braided. Hiding the whites and grays? Luna, you braid his hair for him. Do you see any white or gray hairs?" he asked, eyeing her in the rear view mirror.

When he glanced at her, though, he immediately felt guilty. Sometimes, it was easy to forget how hard her daemon radar was on her. Luna could sense daemon presences all across Eos. Some they could reach easily, and some required long recon missions before they deemed them worthy of effort, like Noctis and Prompto's whole ordeal the night before. While it was hard on the members of the group who had to _fight_ the daemons, for Luna, Noctis often wondered if it was harder. She'd explained to the group once that at night, the daemon presence was a constant radar in her ear, and when they were spikes, the radar turned more into a screaming. It kept her awake some nights, and was a constant source of exhaustion to her body.

Despite that, she forced a smile and shook her head., turning to glance at Nyx. "No," she disagreed. "I don't think I've seen any grays. If I ever do, though, I'm quite inclined to agree with Crowe. They would each be named after specific incidents where your driving has either stressed us out or put is in actual, direct, danger." By the time she finished speaking, she was actually laughing, smiling affectionately at her boyfriend, who grumbled.

Hammerhead appeared on the horizon, and Noctis could see the various daemons surrounding the small town. It wasn't even Hour Twenty-Five yet, but it looked like it was. Rather than pulling into the small town, and having to negotiate their way outside at the gate, Noctis pulled over on the side of the road. He left the car running, left the headlights on to keep the daemons away from it, and then turned to see where Ignis and his team were. He'd gotten so far ahead that Ignis was only just now turning the corner. Nyx and Luna canvassed the area, Luna getting readings and telling Nyx so that he could make a tactical appraisal.

Honestly, though, it took all that Noctis had inside him not to just rush out and start searching. Prompto's messages had said that he hadn't been able to convince his team to stay inside, which meant that they were somewhere out there in all of this. It wasn't a daemon mosh pit like at Piztala Cove the night prior. No, it was closer to looking like the beach. Groups of more dangerous daemons clustered here and there, far enough away from each other to be easy to evade.

That didn't make it any less dangerous, though. Especially to one person, trying to protect two crystals.

The three echoing sounds of Ignis' team's doors closing snapped Noctis out of his scan of the endless desert expanse. Gladio's voice came closer, muttering something under his breath. Something that ended with, "eighty miles an _hour_ ," which led Noctis to believe that he was complaining about Noctis' driving.

Maybe Noctis would have been bothered to care if he wasn't so focused on scanning the horizon for any sign of his new friend, and pointedly ignoring his 11:58 alarm. Ignis hushed Gladio and pulled him toward Luna and Nyx, while Iris approached Crowe, which left Noctis to his own devices. That may not have been the wisest choice, however, because the next second, the cracking echo of a gunshot rang out across the desert and snapped him out of his stupor. The gunshot was followed quickly by a deep and thick pounding sound—some kind of explosion, maybe—and at that, Noctis jumped to attention.

The rest of his team either didn't hear the noise, or were ignoring it. Luna was trying to search through the daemons for the largest disturbance. Ignis, Gladio, and Nyx were surrounding her, talking calmly. Iris and Crowe, well, Noctis wasn't sure what they were talking about. But he was sure of one thing: they weren't focused on the task at hand. It felt like no one was concerned about the _people_ out there, and if they didn't hurry...

Noctis' reaction was impulsive, and probably a little bit—or a lot—stupid. He took off in a sprint into the sand. Dust kicked up with his every step, and he'd made it about a hundred feet before he heard someone notice his absence. It was Iris, who spotted him as he ran toward the noise and called out to everyone else to follow. Shortly thereafter, he heard Gladio calling after him, commanding him to "slow the hell down," and telling him that he was going to get himself killed. He didn't slow down. Didn't listen. _Couldn't_ listen.

Shortly after the voices hit his ears, the familiar aura shift of the beginning of Hour Twenty-Five overtook the area. All of the electric buzzing from the town inside of the fence went completely silent and the region darkened—with the exception of a few, too far-spread, Gralean-made, daemon protection lights—and the familiar green-shift entered his vision. To be honest, he was too desensitized to the sensation for it to keep him from moving, so he continued. His friends' shouts stopped when Hour Twenty-Five started, and Noctis knew in the back of his mind that it was because none of them wanted to alert the daemons.

As much as Noctis wanted to hold the same qualms, he didn't. The only concern in his mind was getting to Prompto and his friends. Behind him, a group of daemons cut off his escape route, and slowed his friends' pursuit to join him. Noctis didn't care. His singular focus kept him running, even when his lungs started to protest the strain. As he ran, he extended his sword, ready to attack when he needed to.

Finally, at the very edge of his vision's limit, appeared a group of three people giving a futile attempt to fight off a group of daemons as they closed in. Noctis ran ever closer, watching as a silver-haired woman leaped up into the air to attack a red giant, only to be swept aside with a large metallic fist in midair. She hit the ground hard, and struggled to pick herself back up. Two blondes—one of whom was Prompto, and the other a woman carrying a _large_ machine-style weapon—hurried over to where their fallen comrade lay, standing between her and the daemons.

Neither the humans nor the daemons had spotted Noctis yet. The element of surprise allowed him to cut down two goblins on his way to get to Prompto's side. It was the guttural screech of the second goblin as Noctis' sword pierced its insides that caught the red giant's attention. The monster turned on Noctis then, punching the ground with all its force. When its fist hit the sand, the shock waves caused Noctis to stumble and almost fall over. He kept himself upright, though, and dove out of the way of another punch that would have knocked him backward.

"Noctis?" Prompto called out.

Noctis nodded. "Yeah. Cover me, alright? Both of you." He didn't know the girl, but she had _some_ sort of weapon with her.

She seemed a little more hesitant than Prompto was, however. She eyed him for a few seconds, then turned to look at Prompto as he nodded resolutely. Her eyes went to the other woman, who was on her hands and knees, watching the scene with pained but appraising eyes. "You sure about this, Prom?" the blonde woman asked.

Without hesitation, Prompto answered her. "He'll help us," he assured her.

It was the vote of confidence that had Noctis feeling... well, more confident, he supposed. He hurried forward, sword at the ready, and swung out at the red giant. A flourish of strikes didn't seem to be affecting it, other than to make it let out a bellowing growl and punch the ground again. Noctis, Prompto, and the blonde girl stumbled. The silver-haired woman lost her hands-and-knees positioning and hit her stomach on the ground again. While the situation had never really been anything other than bad, this had taken it from bad to worse. The daemon's bellowing cry caught the attention of several other nearby daemons.

Noctis wasn't terribly worried about the smaller ones; the goblins and the imps were easy enough to cut down. It was the necromancer and the ronin that floated and strode toward them that caught his attention. Combined with the red giant... this was a recipe for another nightmare. Noctis would be damned if he let a daemon, let alone a _ronin_ —like the one that had killed his father—kill anyone else when he was around, though.

Unfortunately, his choice in the matter was limited. As he was distracted by the approaching daemons, the red giant struck out again and knocked Noctis back toward where all of the daemons approached. He impacted with the trunk of a tree, much like Prompto had the night before, and crashed to the ground in a heap. Before he knew it, several of the daemons that he'd previously dismissed as inconsequential drew ever closer. They crawled atop him and started beating him down. He felt sharp teeth sink into his shoulder, tiny pounding fists on his chest; heard piercing screeches in his ear...

The very _second_ he felt like he couldn't take anymore, it was almost like someone flipped a switch in his head.

Just like last night with the stranger, a searing headache tore its way through his head. This time, though, it was accompanied by a thundering voice; a deep, rich baritone that rattled his brain. _"I am the you that you hide inside. The conqueror of the skies, with the power to protect or destroy all. I am your aeon, Bahamut. Summon me to strike down your foes."_

Fists still pounded on his chest and screeches still echoed in his ears, but somehow, in the very recesses of his mind, Noctis knew exactly what he needed to do. Through gritted teeth and in a pained voice, he shouted into the sky, "Bahamut! Come to me!"

The ground beneath him lit up, and as he turned to look, he noticed a purple-lit pattern appearing in the sand beneath him. In an instant, the daemon assault stopped, and in the respite, Noctis' eyes turned to the sky. Descending from the dark tinted green with an ear-shattering shriek, came a giant shielded beast of a dragon. Its wings beat the air around it, kicking up a monster of a windy dust storm, strong enough to knock all of the goblins from Noctis' body. Suddenly, in place of the pain was a sudden swelling of energy, thrumming from the tip of Noctis' toes and up to the top of his head. With a motion of command, he ordered the dragon toward where the red giant still advanced on Prompto and his friends.

While the dragon—Bahamut—lifted the giant daemon in its talons, flying it high into the sky and dropping it a short distance away, Noctis swung his sword out at the goblins and imps that had been attacking him before. Blood seeped through his shirt at his shoulder and his pants at his thigh where the daemons had bitten him, his chest and extremities throbbed with pain from their relentless punches, but something—Noctis wasn't sure if it was adrenaline or something else entirely—kept him on his feet. One by one, he cut the small daemons down, and he looked up when Bahamut flew back to him, stopping to hover over his head.

In his periphery, he spotted both of the other teams running toward the skirmish. As soon as they saw the dragon behind Noctis, however, they stopped and stared in amazement at what Noctis did next.

Once again, he commanded the dragon forward. It dove, taking the ronin in its talons and tearing it in half. The necromancer dove toward Bahamut, but when it would have impacted, Bahamut flew higher into the sky, before dive-bombing and crushing the daemon into the ground with its body. The daemon exploded into a puff of dust, just like all the others before it, and Noctis huffed out desperate breaths as Bahamut flew slowly to his side again. The beating of wings blew dust and wind into his face, and as he raised his eyes to look up at the hulking dragon, he nodded in acknowledgment. The area was clear. Clear enough, at least, for the immediate danger to be declared over. In a flash, Bahamut soared back up into the sky; up and up until he completely disappeared into the green.

With the swell of energy and power subsiding, the pains suddenly started to catch up to him. He heard the beating of several pairs of feet heading his way, and while he _wanted_ to stay standing, to stay aware enough to tell his friends that he was okay, he was starting to realize that it wasn't exactly the truth. He stumbled, his knees feeling weak, and any attempt to stay standing proved to be futile.

Before he could stop it, or even really knew what was happening, Noctis had crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

_Awareness seeped back in, and Noctis found himself surrounded by blue again. Blue, with white wisps and silver fairy dust. The pain he'd felt before he blacked out was gone, instead replaced with a pleasantly neutral feeling. Crystal Space. That was what the woman had called it. Did that mean that she was here somewhere? Noctis stepped forward again, walking nowhere in the unmoving blue and waiting for her to appear again._

_Noctis felt a gentle hand reach forward and clasp his shoulder from behind. He started then whirled around, surprise etching its way through his features when the woman from before appeared in his vision, still clad in that same black kimono. Her expression was kind—a soft smile, though her eyes were still closed—and she nodded a greeting. "I've been expecting you, Noctis," she told him, folding her hands atop her abdomen and nodding a warm greeting Noctis' way._

_Was he able to talk this time? What could it hurt to try?_

_"Why am I here again?" he asked, and the sound of his own voice alarmed him. He_ was _allowed to talk this time! Maybe now he could get some answers. "Is this a dream?"_

_The woman hummed a gentle laugh and stepped up to stand behind Noctis. "Yes, but also no. For now, I am only allowed to speak to you while you rest," she explained._

_He blinked. "For now?" he asked._

_She didn't answer, only nodded her acknowledgment. "Crystal Space is a place of respite, Noctis. A peaceful place between dream and reality," she explained. "It can either be a place of guidance or a place of reflection, depending on your decisions and your needs. The actions of your heart, the choices you make, will reflect in the way Crystal Space appears to you. Right now, you are curious. You have many questions, each of which is represented by a wisp in the air. The nearer you find yourself to the answer, the brighter the wisp will glow."_

_Noctis' eyes raised to the sky, glancing at the wisps. One of them erred closer to where he stood, whipping around his head in a whirlwind and then stopping just above him. "What happens when they're answered?" As soon as the question left his lips, another wisp appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, right next to the first. They floated side by side, spinning around each other, almost like they were dancing. Crystalline dust fell from them as they moved, raining over Noctis and the black-clad woman._

_"They disappear. Though, they will never_ completely _disappear, as when one question is answered, another takes its place."_

_Just as she'd said, the very moment she finished speaking, both wisps exploded in a silent pop of crystalline dust. How? Why? No sooner had the questions entered his mind, than two more wisps materialized right in the place of the two that had just disappeared. As many questions as that gave Noctis, he couldn't help but smile. It was beautiful, really._

_He turned to look at the woman. "Who are you?" he asked her._

_Ducking her head in reception, the warm smile on her face grew. "I am Gentiana," she introduced herself. "I am in charge of Crystal Space, and I have resided her for a very, very long time, awaiting the moment when a guest would finally show up."_

_Noctis blinked. "How long?" he questioned._

_"Of that, I am unsure," she answered him. "This space is also outside of time."_

_Another wisp popped in his periphery, but this time, three more appeared in its place. "Can you ever leave?" If not, that was a very miserable and lonely existence._

_The woman—Gentiana—shook her head no. "I do not believe so."_

_Noctis glanced down, his eyes falling into the endless blue expanse below him, and he blinked hard. The woman was being more forthcoming this time. Did that mean that he could ask more questions? "You said that this was a place of guidance or reflection," he repeated as he raised his head to look at her again. "How is it either of those things, if I can't get here when I want to?" So far, he'd only been brought here in dreams, or _some_ altered state of consciousness, right? How could he be guided, if he wasn't even conscious and woke up thinking it was a dream?_

_Another gentle hum of laughter, and Gentiana shook her head. "I can not answer that question for you, not until you have formed a contract."_

_"Contract? What kind of a contract?" Noctis blinked. That was one of the questions he'd wanted to ask her last time, but he hadn't been able to speak._

_Smiling a gentle smile, Gentiana shrugged one shoulder and placed her hand on his shoulder again. "That, Noctis, is up to you." A brief pause, and she turned her closed eyes back toward him. "I will inform you, however, that you have already put the makings of a contract in place."_

_It wasn't an answer. Not even close. As such, several more wisps appeared and hovered in the air around them. At the very least, though, it was more than he'd gotten from her last time. As he looked at her, he tilted his head to the side. "You still haven't answered my question about why I'm here again..." he pointed out._

_She shook her head no. "You are correct, I have not." A brief pause, and her expression went somber. "Your world is enveloped in a great darkness, Noctis. A great darkness and a great mystery. Just as with the first time you were brought here, I must inform you that you are the only one capable of putting together what is needed to lighten the darkness."_

_Noctis blinked dumbly at her. "Do you mean Hour Twenty-Five?" he asked._

_"Partially," was her simple-but-complicated answer._

_Huffing a laugh, Noctis rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. You can't tell me anything more until I've formed a contract?" he asked her._

_Initially, Gentiana smiled, but then she shook her head moments later. "Unfortunately, many things you need to know are things that I can not tell you. I am not all-knowing, Noctis. I have never seen the world in which you live." Her tone was gentle, not sad or happy about the circumstance._

_"How are you supposed to guide me, then?" If she didn't know anything about the world, then how could she be a guide?_

_A smile. "_ That _, I can not tell you until you have formed a contract," she answered._

 _Formed a contract. Everything came down to this contract. Biting back any further questions, he looked at her and nodded his understanding. It wasn't_ really _understanding, no. There were still so many questions, apparently represented by the wisps in the air that still hovered around like butterflies. Still, this place didn't seem dangerous. It seemed far, far safer than the real world._

_"Ah. It seems our time is up for now," Gentiana interrupted his thoughts._

_Sure enough, as Noctis looked out at the space around him, watching as the same white-shift as before started to overtake the blue. Blotches of white spread like splatters of paint on a wall, and as the wall disappeared, so did the wisps, so did everything else. He turned his head to Gentiana, blinking twice and asked, "when will you call me back here?"_

_As she answered, her features started disappearing into the white. "I will not. Next time, Noctis, you will have to come of your own free will," she told him._

_How? Why? As the last of Gentiana's features disappeared into the whiteness—as Noctis' _own_ features started whiting out—once again, he was left with more questions than answers._


	10. Recovery

Prompto spent most of the next few days alternating between Noctis' room and Aranea's room. They were close by one another; Noctis' room was two doors down from Aranea's, which made it easy. For the first few days, whenever one of Noctis' friends would show up, Prompto would leave and go to visit Aranea. Aranea healed much faster than Noctis did, though. Her injuries, the doctor said, were primarily bruises and exhaustion. It was lucky, too. When that Red Giant threw her back, it could've been way, way worse than that. After they released her, though, Prompto spent pretty much all of his time in Noctis' room.

He didn't even leave at night, because Noctis' friends were handling protecting Hammerhead with Cindy while Noctis and Aranea were out.

The nurses never told him to leave either. The building that served as Hammerhead's hospital was kind of small-time compared to the hospitals in big cities like Lestallum and Altissia, and it was always busy and understaffed, so the nurses were always happy to have someone in the room watching over someone for them. If anything went wrong, Prompto wouldn't have been able to do much, but nothing was happening that warranted worry, so it was okay. The nurse had likened Noctis' situation to a weird coma. He was still breathing, all of his insides were still functioning normally, but he was sleeping while his injuries healed. Just... sleeping. It had been five days now. Bruised ribs from the goblin fists, dozens of tiny bites on his shoulders and legs from their mouths, a bruise on his back from where he hit the tree... but no concussion; the doctor said that there was nothing that should have kept him unconscious for a week.

Honestly, the only thing Prompto could think of that _would_ have kept him out of it like that was the giant dragon. It looked like he'd called on it. Prompto remembered seeing a blue sigil beneath his body as it lay on the ground. It reminded him of the story that Noctis had told him the day after they met, of the man with the flame-coated ethereal being that had helped cut the daemons down. How could something like that have caused this, though? It looked like it was helping him. It had cut down all of the big daemons without any issue, and saved Noctis _and_ Prompto, Aranea, and Cindy.

But what if that came with a cost? What if the cost was this; Noctis being in the hospital for days afterward? He was grateful, of course he was. But he'd be more grateful when Noctis woke up.

Prompto's eyes turned to Noctis as he rested. His chest rose and fell with slow breaths, but that was the only real movement he made. Aside from that, his body looked almost like a corpse. Heaving a sigh, Prompto scanned his face. His skin was pale. It was a little darker than Prompto's, and didn't have the hundred thousand freckles that Prompto's had, but it was still paler than most people Prompto knew. His lips, though currently marred by a split on the bottom lip, were kind of pouty. They looked really soft. _Really kissable,_ his mind taunted.

Just the thought, though, had Prompto's cheeks heating up. He forced himself to look away, examine the rest of Noctis' face. His dark hair hung over his closed eyes, but Prompto could still see the lashes. Dark and long and gorgeous. There were little scars—probably from all his years of hunting—here and there on his skin. Most of them were tiny little things; probably from wayward daemon claws or tumbles and falls. They didn't do anything to harm how gorgeous Noctis was overall. If anything, they added, because he was way better looking than anyone Prompto had ever seen before. When his eyes were open, and Prompto could see that pale blue?

 _I'm in so much trouble..._ Prompto thought, adjusting his glasses slightly and tearing his eyes away from Noctis' sleeping form.

Voices outside the door caught Prompto's attention. He turned around, blinking in surprise when four men appeared through the large window on the door. Two of them were Noctis' friends—Ignis and Gladiolus, Prompto remembered—and the other two, he didn't recognize. They were older. One had darker skin and carried himself in much the same manner as Ignis did. He looked composed and together, even though he walked with a slight limp. The other was significantly more rugged. He walked with a hobbled step as well, but he was tall and stern with brown hair and blue eyes.

Ignis and the two older men turned toward the room, but stopped before they entered and talked quietly among themselves for a moment. Gladiolus, on the other hand, stayed outside. He settled into a chair near across the hall from Noctis' room. There was a stern, disapproving look on his face, but just beneath the surface, Prompto could see something more. His brows furrowed with concern as he pulled a book out of a large inside jacket pocket and started reading. Prompto remembered the night that the incident had taken place, how angry Gladiolus had been at Noctis. Gladiolus was large and intimidating—in a lot of ways, he reminded Prompto of Aranea—but there was something in the way he'd reacted that night. Like he wasn't _mad_ at Noctis, but more _worried_ about him.

Maybe that was just Prompto assuming too much, though. He didn't know any of these people. He didn't even _really_ know Noctis that well.

Prompto was so lost in his thoughts that the sound of the tumblers in the door clicking startled him. He turned, watching as the three men stepped into the room and then blinking in amazement. "Oh. I... if you need to, like, talk or something, um... I can..."

Ignis shook his head, smiling a kind smile at Prompto. "No, of course not. There's room enough for four." He stepped up beside Noctis' bed, looking him over with a concerned expression on his face. "Still asleep. I would say that I'm surprised, but the love affair Noct has with sleep is quite worthy of concern." With a fond chuckle, he turned to look toward the other two men.

The man with the monocle nodded and laughed, sliding into a chair not too far from Prompto. "Though I'm not sure that the lad has ever slept for five days straight before," he pointed out, glancing back at Ignis, sharing the same concerned expression.

A couple of seconds worth of silence enveloped the room then, and Prompto found himself feeling incredibly self-conscious. The third man, the more rugged of the bunch, was quiet, standing behind the monocle-wearing man's chair with his hands resting on the back. "Has there been any change?" he asked, turning his gaze from Noctis' bed to look at Prompto.

"Um... n-no," Prompto answered, his voice a nervous squeak from his throat. "I've been in here a lot, and there's... there's been no change. S-sorry."

The man with the monocle turned to Prompto, smiling a kind smile and then glancing over his shoulder at the rugged man. "Where are our manners, hm? Asking the lad questions without properly introducing ourselves." He extended his hand to Prompto and nodded a greeting. "I'm Weskham Armaugh, and this is Cor Leonis. You know Ignis, yes?" he asked.

Prompto nodded, reaching out and accepting the man's hand with his own. Somehow, he managed to keep his hand steady, but he didn't meet Weskham's eye when they shook hands. "I'm, um... I'm Prompto. Argentum. Noctis saved my life a week or so ago, and-"

"That's not how he told it," the rugged man—Cor, Prompto now knew—said with a cocky grin. "He seemed impressed with how brave you are, too. How you were so willing to face Hour Twenty-Five when you didn't know the first thing about it. That takes guts." He looked at Prompto, tired eyes filled with a calm sort of interest. It was weird. He seemed almost impressed, but it wasn't like Prompto had done anything really impressive. He'd just survived. Nothing special. Nothing like what Noctis had done.

With a nervous chuckle, Prompto shook his head no. "N-no! No, I didn't really do anything special. I, um... I was super nervous the whole time." He turned away from Cor's gaze. "I don't... I don't think we would've even been attacked if I hadn't.. y'know, tripped over a root." 

Ignis chuckled fondly. "Everyone is a bit disoriented during their first Hour Twenty-Five. I was young for mine, though. Which begs the question of how you went this long without being aware that you were one of us." His tone wasn't judgmental or suspicious. It was gentle and kind. Questioning, and genuinely interested in the answer.

Despite that, though, the fact that all eyes in the room—except for Noctis', which were still closed—were on him, was doing nothing to help his nerves. Prompto glanced down at his hands, the crack in his glasses distorting his vision just slightly. He really needed to go to Lestallum, but he didn't feel right leaving with Noctis still in the hospital. Especially since he was only _in_ the hospital because he'd come to save Prompto and his friends. Raising his eyes, Prompto glanced at Noctis' friends. They seemed nice, but how much of what he said would they believe?

Even so, Prompto summoned all of his bravery, took a steeling breath, and answered the non-question. "I... I have this sleep disorder. Up until really, really recently, I've taken sleeping pills that... that um... pretty much knock me out before midnight. B-but since I discovered Hour Twenty-Five, I've stopped taking 'em." Internally, he was cursing his stammer, his nerves, but he did his best not to let it show.

Weskham's expression changed, and he turned to glance at Ignis with an eyebrow raised. The pair of them shared a moment of some odd silent communication, and while that happened, Cor stepped around Weskham's chair to catch Prompto's gaze. "A sleep disorder? Have you had trouble sleeping since you stopped taking the pills, then?" he asked.

"Uh..." It wasn't really something that Prompto thought of much, but now that he was, he shook his head no. "N-no, I don't think so. Why?"

Honestly, that _was_ a little strange, now that he was thinking of it. Every single time he went to a doctor, they always told him that he would struggle with sleep issues for the rest of his life. The suspicion that Aranea and Cindy had expressed back in the beginning, when he told them that he had to take the medication every single night, jumped to the forefront of his mind. They'd always seemed convinced that his dad was lying to him; that he was making the doctors lie, too. Not to mention how weird it was that his dad had sent him to Piztala Beach that night _without_ his medication. He'd chalked it up, that night, to the fact that his dad didn't want him to fall asleep on the train and miss his stop or something. Now, though, the more he thought of it, the weirder it was.

What benefit would there really be for him to lie, though? It wasn't like _he_ knew about Hour Twenty-Five, right? He was suspicious, but for now, it had no foundation, so he ignored it.

Cor shook his head, shaking Prompto's question off and sliding into the last chair that leaned against the wall. "I didn't mean anything by it," he offered, a smile coming to his face; a kinder one than his rugged looks would suggest. Behind that, though, there was a hidden layer. A question he wasn't asking. It had Prompto curious, but not enough to ask. It wasn't really his place.

It did, though, help to convince Prompto of his internal decision not to take the medication anymore. He thought of it, where it sat in a bottle on his dresser back at home, and found himself considering ways to hide his refusal to take it from his father. If his dad found out, Prompto was pretty sure he'd be furious.

Sighing, Ignis turned from Noctis' bed and looked at Weskham and Cor. "What we saw that night," he started, "lends more credence to Noct's story about the being coated in fire. I never truly disbelieved Noct when he told us about it, but I did wonder if, maybe, whatever it was that made him lose consciousness made him dream something that we thought was real. Now, though..."

"The dragon?" Prompto asked after Ignis trailed off. As soon as the question escaped, he winced internally. Speaking without being spoken to. No one had asked him anything.

Weskham turned his attention to Prompto from Ignis, and he nodded. "About this dragon, do you remember what happened before it appeared, Prompto?" he asked calmly.

Thinking back to that night, Prompto nodded. "Um... w-when Noctis showed up, Aranea, Cindy, and me were in trouble," he explained. "Lots of daemons and stuff closing in. Aranea's our toughest fighter and they, y'know, knocked her down and everything." He turned his eyes to Noctis' hospital bed. "Then Noctis showed up. He helped us with the Red Giant, but it knocked him back and he hit a tree and he got, um... piled on by a bunch of goblins."

Prompto frowned, thinking back to how all of the goblins pounded relentlessly on Noctis' body. How he'd been unable to help. He thought of Noctis' cries of anguish, and the way the fight seemed to drain out of him as they bit and hit him. The memories made Prompto shake his head hard and tear his eyes from his new friend's hospital bed. All because he'd come to help Prompto. Whenever he woke up, if he woke up, Prompto would have to beg forgiveness. All of this had happened because Prompto wasn't strong enough. Because he couldn't back Cindy and Aranea's strength well enough. Shaking the thought off, he looked back at Weskham and continued.

"Th-that was when the sigil appeared underneath him. I kinda just happened to look over and see it. It was really bright. And blue. And Noctis said something like, 'Bahamut, come to me!' and then the dragon came." His voice was a little bit shakier now, worried that Noctis' friends would blame him for the fact that Noctis was in this mess to begin with.

Ignis picked up where Prompto left off. "That's when we came in. The dragon saved Noctis, all of them, and all of _us_. It cleared out all of the daemons in the area with ease," he explained to Cor and Weskham.

Silence filled the room as Cor and Weskham glanced at each other. Weskham's face was pointed away from Prompto, but the look in Cor's eyes was... confused. That was the only way to describe it. "So, Noct summons this dragon, it clears the daemons, saves everyone, and then disappears?" he asked.

Both Prompto and Ignis nodded in response.

Weskham blinked a couple of times, glanced down at his hands, and stayed silent. "More questions to answer about Hour Twenty-Five," he murmured. "No matter how many years we fight, no matter how many years we research, we never seem to come any closer." He heaved a sigh and turned to look at Prompto. "Thank you, lad. For answering our questions, and for staying with Noctis while he recovers."

"D-don't thank me, please. It's the least I can do," Prompto mumbled, in a voice barely audible. "Since, you know, it's... it's my fault that all this happened."

Ignis blinked. "No," he answered. "I don't think that's true. It's fortunate, actually, that Noctis got to you when he did. That he was able to call upon that dragon and save you and your friends." The smile on his face was soft and kind, but his brows furrowed over his glasses in concern. "I suspect that he'd have been worse off than this if he hadn't."

That made Prompto's right eyebrow quirk up in question. What did he mean by that? It wasn't like a new friend, someone that he'd only known for one night, was worth a week spent cooped up in a hospital bed. Prompto didn't say that aloud, though. He just nodded in acknowledgment of Ignis' kind words, whether he believed them or not. "I just... hope he wakes up soon," he spoke up.

"He will," Cor smirked softly. "He's got too much of his dad in him to stay down for too long."

Wasn't Noctis' dad dead, though? The wistful expression on all three men's faces told Prompto that he probably shouldn't say that aloud, so instead, he turned and glanced at Noctis' bed once more. In the corner of his mind were more questions about Noctis. Curiosity; wanting to know more about his friend, what he was like, what made him tick. His own anxiety, worry that he would annoy them kept him quiet.

Weskham turned to Prompto then. "While we have you, lad," he spoke, like he was just remembering something. "I spoke to your friends, Cindy and Aranea. I asked them if they were interested in joining our efforts to keep daemons at bay during Hour Twenty-Five. The pair of them seemed quite interested, but they told us that their definite answer depended on yours." He smiled gently at Prompto.

"No pressure, of course," Cor added. "And no hurry to answer, either. As long as Noctis is in here, we'll all be here. But your friends have actually been working pretty well with our group. They've managed, together, to cut down daemon presence in the area by about a third."

A third fewer daemons around Hammerhead. In five days. Prompto wasn't sure if it was that, or the thought that the people who supervised Noctis' team seemed to want him to help them. _Him._ Or maybe it was just because that was the only reason that Aranea and Cindy would help out. That made more sense. While he considered their words, and his options, he went quiet and stared at his hands in his lap.

In the silence, Ignis chuckled a soft and gentle note. "I suspect that Noctis would be glad to have another friend with us, too."

Prompto's eyes went back to Noctis, where he lay motionless on the bed, his chest rising and falling with rhythmic breath. Selfishly, he found himself wanting to agree just as an excuse to spend more time with Noctis. Another selfish thought was the fact that this was a chance for him to see more of the world; a chance for him to see what was really out there, outside of Hammerhead. It wasn't as though he never got out of town. He did. The trip to Piztala was one time, and once in awhile he would go to Galdin Quay with Aranea and Cindy to enjoy the beach. Sometimes they went to Lestallum together to shop. Noctis, though, had mentioned that his work took him all over the place. So, this was a real chance to see the world.

It was _also_ a chance to do some good. To learn to fight better from people who _really_ seemed to have it together. That, more than anything, made Prompto want to say yes. He turned his attention to Cor and Weskham. Maybe the tiniest piece of him should have thought to tell his dad first, but it wasn't like carrying out missions with Noctis' team meant that he couldn't still do things for his dad, right? He could totally do both. Besides that, he was twenty. He could totally make his own decisions now. Right?

With that in mind, he nodded his head in response. "Sure," he answered, his voice a mousy croak. "I mean. Y-yeah. I think I'd like that. If... if you think it's a good idea."

Cor smiled a smile that was far gentler than Prompto would have expected. He opened up to answer, but before he could, before any words escaped _his_ mouth, a groan came from the bed behind Ignis. Prompto was on his feet in an instant, joining Ignis at Noctis' bedside. Cor, rather than responding to Prompto, whipped his head toward Noctis' bed. Upon realizing that he was stirring and edging toward waking up, Cor got to his feet and moved toward the door. Prompto heard him talking to Gladiolus on the other side—telling him to get the nurse or something—but admittedly, Prompto's own focus was on Noctis instead.

"Uh..." Noctis groaned. "Huh? S-Specs. Prompto?"

Weskham joined them at Noctis' bedside, standing on the other side of Prompto. It was funny, in a kind of nice way, that despite the fact that both Ignis and Weskham were strangers, neither presence felt looming to Prompto. Maybe it was the fact that they'd shown him nothing but kindness. Or maybe it was because he wasn't focusing on it. That he couldn't really on anything but how relieved he was to see Noctis' eyes open again.

Though Ignis' expression was relieved, his voice was a little stern. "Don't move too much, Noct. You've been out for some time," he told Noctis, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Noctis blinked a couple of times, and it looked like he was going over the incident again in his mind. Or at least that he was thinking about _some_ thing. "I... I was? How long?" he asked, glancing from Ignis to Weskham. "H-hey, Wesk."

"Nearly six days, lad," Weskham answered, instead of a greeting. "Enough to worry all of us."

Eyes wide, Noctis stared blankly at Weskham. It looked like the words had reached him, but they were taking time to register. "Six... six days?" he asked. "Wait. Wait, you're okay!" His eyes turned to Prompto, widening even more, and his face twisted in an equal blend of relief and worry. "What about your friends? Are they..."

Prompto nodded his head and raked his teeth over his lower lip. "Yeah. Yeah, they're fine. We're... we're all fine, Noctis," he told Noctis with a breathy, relieved laugh. "We wouldn't be if you... if you hadn't arrived, though. So, thanks. For, you know, saving our lives and everything." He met Noctis' eye, and physically fought with the instinct to reach forward and touch Noctis' hand.

"G-good. That's good." Noctis relaxed again. "Where... where am I?" he asked.

Cor stepped up to the side of Noctis' bed and breathed a heavy sigh. "Hammerhead," he explained. "At their hospital. Try not to move around too much, alright? Until the nurse can confirm that you're alright."

Blue eyes—pale in the light of the hospital room—turned to look at Cor, and he nodded. "I'm... Cor, I..." He trailed off before he could finish his sentence.

It didn't seem like he had to, though. Cor's concern morphed to a smile—soft, but somewhat exasperated—and he shook his head. "It's okay. You're alright. And so are they. They probably wouldn't have been if you hadn't rushed off, right? And called... that dragon." The tone in the older man's voice still sounded bewildered, but a lot less angry. "Gladio was furious, Luna will probably lecture you a bit, and I'm sure Ignis has something prepared about heroics, but it's alright for now."

Calming just slightly, Noctis' eyes turned to Ignis. "You're gonna save it for when I'm out of here, aren't you Specs?" he asked with a little smirk.

"Actually, much to my own surprise, I'm with Cor here. Yes, your heroics were probably a little foolhardy, but you and your dragon, whatever it was, saved three people. Even though you put yourself in the hospital, they wouldn't have survived without you." Ignis placed a hand on Noctis' shoulder, squeezing it gently. "If it matters for anything, I'll do what I can to stow Gladio's anger. I make no promises, but I'll try."

Noctis chuckled. "Thanks," he muttered, before turning his eyes to Prompto. "I'm glad I made it on time, Prompto."

Try as he may, Prompto was unable to keep a smile from spreading its way across his face as he met Noctis' eyes. "Me too. And..." he paused, tearing his eyes away from Noctis' to glance at the ugly yellow hospital blanket instead, then added, "I'm really glad you're okay." He could feel the heat in his cheeks.

"Hey," Noctis called Prompto's attention.

When Prompto looked back his way, he could see a grin crossing Noctis' lips. A gorgeous grin. It lit up his face, and made Prompto's stomach flip beneath his skin again. That feeling only doubled when he spoke the next words, too.

His eyes were locked right on Prompto's, and he reached out with his nearest hand to touch Prompto's forearm. "Right back at you," he mirrored.


	11. Familiarize

Noctis had no idea how he could possibly have slept for five whole days, but he had. Even with how much he liked to sleep, he'd never slept for five whole days before. Not only was that unbelievable, but the fact that according to everyone he asked, Prompto had more or less stayed the whole time he was there was, too. The day he'd woken up had been full of surprises, actually, because after a quick appraisal, which turned into a complete physical, Noctis was deemed completely healthy. There was nothing wrong with him, the doctor said. Forget that he'd apparently spent almost six days bedridden. The only problems left, the woman said, were residual bruising that would fade in a couple of days, and some marks from daemon bites that would probably scar. Other than that, he was totally fine.

That, thankfully, meant that after one more night of observation, they let him out of the hospital. Honestly, when he'd finally left the bed, that was when it occurred to him that he _had_ to have been here for a long time. His legs had protested as he stood up; strained against the sudden pressure and movement after being still for so long. It was only pure stubbornness, a refusal to be wheeled out of the hospital in some stupid wheelchair, that kept him on his feet when he left the building. Stubbornness only abated when he got to a bench several feet from the small hospital.

Just because he was okay, though, didn't exempt him from Luna's worry and Gladio's anger. Luna, at least, was gentler about things. She'd acknowledged that she understood why he'd run off, and even though she wished it hadn't been necessary to begin with, she'd more or less given him a pass. The lecture hadn't been as long as he'd expected, and it had been more about warning the group, telling them, instead of just running off without saying a word. Retrospectively, she'd been absolutely right, of course. At least one or two of the rest of the group probably would have followed him if he'd called out. Maybe they would have, maybe that was true. It didn't really matter, though. Everyone made it out in one piece. And now their team was larger.

The big downside to the situation was the fact that he'd had to spend five days in the hospital, and a few more days on bed rest. Well, and the fact that they had even _more_ unanswered questions about Hour Twenty-Five now.

The fact that Gladio seemed to be edging ever closer to coming unhinged on Noctis every time they came face to face wasn't helping matters, either. The first night, after he'd finished talking with Prompto, Cor, Weskham, and Ignis, Gladio had just glared at him from the doorway after going to get the nurse. Prompto somehow seemed convinced that there was something Gladio wasn't saying, that Noctis should talk to him. As tempted as Noctis was, as much as he wanted their friendship the way it was just over a year ago, he knew that anything Gladio would have to say to him now would consist solely of shouting.

If wishing made things so, though, they'd definitely be able to get through a conversation without shouting.

Noctis shook his head hard and looked back down at his sketchpad. The sketch of the dragon—his aeon, Bahamut—was rough. Not his best work. But sketching things out was one of the ways that his mind wrapped around things that happened. It had been a long time since he'd really had the opportunity and the inspiration at the same time, but if his forced mini-vacation was good for anything, it was that. His sketchpad—a gift from his dad a couple of months before he died, back when he'd accidentally happened upon a couple of Noctis' rougher sketches—was full of drawings of things Noctis had seen. Some daemons. Some sketches of his friends with their loved ones. Some sketches of his dad and Uncle Clarus and Pelna and Libertus and all of the people that he'd lost.

A couple of pages ago, he'd started a very rough sketch of Prompto's face, but deemed that too weird of a friend he'd only known a grand total of a week. Still, he couldn't bring himself to scrap it. So, the very start of it rested a couple of pages behind his Bahamut sketch. Maybe he should have torn it out; thrown it away. Something in the back of his mind told him not to, though.

His eyes wandered to the clock next to the bed in his motel room. It was almost five. Almost dinner time. He hadn't really been out of his room all day; Ignis had brought him breakfast, and he'd snacked instead of leaving to get lunch. If he didn't eat something real, rather than the empty bag of corn chips in the trash can, Ignis would probably give him hell. It wasn't like it was a huge deal, though. He wasn't hunting that night, so he didn't need the extra energy. No, he was relegated to staying behind, despite the fact that Bahamut would probably make any daemons they had to fight go away all the easier.

Keeping Luna company at the car wouldn't be all bad, he supposed. But he wanted to get back into things. He was _fine_. It felt like none of it had ever happened, actually. If anything, he felt _better_ than before, which was probably a little bit weird. Regardless, to stow complaints from Luna, Ignis, and Weskham—and to avoid Gladio's anger—he'd stay behind.

And he'd go get dinner, too. After he finished this stubborn sketch of Bahamut's right wing. He couldn't get the shape quite right. Its wings were massive, and looked like a mesh of several feathers, sticking out of wing bones. He erased again, breathing a heavy sigh of annoyance as he set his eraser down, then touched his charcoal pencil to the page again. The left one had gone just fine, but the right one was giving him trouble. Twelve metallic, feather-like appendages. They were red, but he'd fill that part in later. For now, he needed to get the shape right. _You did the left, why can't you do the right?_ his brain chastised.

It was almost like his hand finally decided to listen. Six of the feather-like appendages came out exactly as he wanted, and he felt a satisfied smile crossing his face. That was, until he started sketching the outline of the seventh. Three rhythmic knocks echoed out through the motel room, jumping Noctis and making his hand jerk a little bit against his will. Out, not in. Not enough to ruin the integrity of the rest of the picture. With a groan, he reached for his eraser. "Who's is it?" he called.

"Um... it's Prompto. I have dinner for you," Prompto's voice, quiet and nervous, came from the other side of the door.

Oh. It was Prompto. Noctis' eyes flicked up to the door, then back down to his sketchpad as he erased the gnashing charcoal mark from the page beneath Bahamut's wing. "Oh. Come on in," he told his friend.

Maybe most people would have been panicking, trying to hide the evidence of their artistic hobby. Not Noctis. He wasn't really _confident_ in his skills or anything; he wasn't classically trained, and it was just something he did for fun, after all. His dad, though, had made him promise not to be afraid to let people see what he drew. Sometimes, it was hard to listen, especially when he couldn't get a damned wing right, and sometimes it took some internal coercion, but he took those words to heart. The door opened as he finished erasing the black mistake from the page, and he couldn't help but smile a bit when Prompto appeared in the doorway.

"Hey," he greeted Prompto with a nod.

A smile crossed Prompto's face when he met Noctis' eyes, and he raised his chin in lieu of a wave. "Weskham and Ignis sent me with dinner," he nodded at the small stack of plastic containers in his hands. "I brought mine, too, but if you're busy, I can-"

Noctis shook his head no, and nodded over to the chair next to the motel bed. "Not really. Just trying to finish a project. You can stay if you want," he told Prompto, before he touched his pencil back down to the paper. "What'd they make?" It was always nice when Weskham and Ignis were around. They always cooked together, and as far as Noctis was concerned, they were both the best cooks in the world.

Prompto walked toward the chair Noctis had motioned to, setting a couple of the containers on the table next to Noctis' art supplies. "Some grilled fish. Barramundi, I think he said. With fried potatoes and beans-"

"Ugh." Noctis couldn't help the noise of disgust when Prompto mentioned beans. "Here for a week and they're already trying to poison me."

A glance at Prompto showed that his eyebrow was arched. "Are you allergic to beans?" he asked.

Noctis shrugged. "May as well be. _Everyone_ may as well be. They're horrible!" he commented. "Poison to the taste buds." He grinned a little, before turning back to his sketchpad. "Did they send any dessert?"

There was amusement in Prompto's voice when he answered, even if his voice was that same quiet, shy tone that he always used. "That was the girls' doing, actually. Luna, Cin, and Iris, I mean. 'Nea and Crowe watched. They made this orange cake thing. With some super sweet vanilla icing. They, um... they kept trying to shove food down my throat and make me test it," he murmured bashfully.

"Sounds like them. Luna and Iris, I mean." Noctis grinned, casting a sidelong glance Prompto's way.

Prompto nodded. "Cin, too. Her and Aranea are always trying to make me eat more food than I really need to. 'Nea calls me Skinny." He chuckled fondly, his eyes wandering to Noctis' sketchpad. It looked like there was an unspoken question on the tip of his tongue, but instead of asking, he just glanced down at the one plastic container left in his hand.

Noctis shrugged. "You are skinny. But I think that's okay, as long as you eat, you know? It's not like you're _too_ skinny, or anything," he pointed out, his pencil gliding along the page. Nine feathers down, three to go.

With a shrug and a nod, Prompto set the last container on the table. "I do eat. I can only really cook basic things, though, so it's nice to have people like Ignis and Weskham around who can cook really well. That fish looks really, really good. It made Cin's grandfather's house smell really, really good." He pointed out.

Chuckling, Noctis nodded his understanding. "Before the teams split, I used to eat meals they cooked _every night_ ," he mused with a fond smile. "Ignis makes really good grilled fish, but wait until you try the meat pie he and Wesk came up with together." He flashed Prompto a tiny, calm grin.

Prompto looked nervous. Not uncomfortable; he hadn't seemed really uncomfortable with Noctis since Noctis had woken up in the hospital, honestly. Nervous, though. "I haven't had meat pie in a long time. Just thinking about it makes me hungrier," he chuckled softly.

"You don't have to wait for me, you know," Noctis pointed out, using one of the moments when his pencil wasn't on the page to point at the food. "I'll start eating as soon as I finish this up."

Noctis watched as Prompto nodded and reached for one of the plastic containers, and his expression changed. Neutral turned to sadness, which turned to concern. The fact that it seemed like Prompto needed permission to eat made Noctis think back to the day he met Prompto's dad. It didn't seem really outlandish that Prompto's dad would expect Prompto to ask permission to eat before every meal. Maybe that wasn't fair. He'd only met the man once. That meeting, though, hadn't endeared the man to Noctis at all. The way he'd cast Prompto's efforts aside as just another thing; just something he was supposed to do... it didn't sit right with Noctis. Prompto was an adult. He shouldn't have needed permission to do anything, really.

Prompto's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "So, you draw?" he asked. The words seemed tentative, like he was pushing hard against a boundary. He wasn't looking at Noctis when he spoke, instead he focused intently on cutting a bite-sized portion of fish with his fork.

"Yeah," Noctis answered, finishing the eleventh feather and moving on to the twelfth and final one. "I used to just, you know, doodle on napkins or spare pieces of paper or whatever. My dad caught me doodling on a napkin a few months before he died, and then bought me this sketchpad for my birthday that year." The sad feelings that came with thoughts of his dad made his hand slip, and the feather come out uneven. He grunted in disappointment and reached for his eraser.

The hiss drew Prompto's attention. "Sorry," he murmured. "I can-"

Noctis shook his head vehemently. "Not your fault," he shook his head. "Actually, talking to you has made things go a lot smoother than it was before you got here." He shrugged at that, erasing the mistake and setting his eraser off to the side again.

A few beats of silence followed, filled with the sound of Prompto's fork scraping on the bottom of the plastic, and Noctis' charcoal pencil scraping along the paper. Prompto was still tentative—nervous, maybe—so Noctis took it upon himself to carry the flow of the conversation. "What about you?" he urged. "You take pictures, right? You seemed really attached to your camera on the train." The thought of when they'd first met, how Prompto had seemed so panicked when his camera fell to the floor, sprang to Noctis' mind.

Prompto hummed an affirmative answer. "Cin bought me my camera a few years ago. For my birthday," he told Noctis, around a mouthful of fried potatoes. "She was always impressed with the pictures I took with my phone, so she told me that I should have a real camera."

"What do you like to take pictures of?" Noctis asked.

This topic, it seemed, was an area of comfort for Prompto. The mere mention of photography lit his face up. "Anything, really," he answered. "Interesting people, pretty scenery, animals. Anything that catches my eye. One of the things I really love about photography is how you can catch a split second in time for the rest of eternity, you know? Something you see, you think it's cool, could be gone in the next second, but if you have a camera? You can keep it in your mind forever." The smile on his face was real and honest, and by the end of his sentence, he was gesturing with his fork hand to eagerly accentuate his point.

It brought a smile to Noctis' face. Happy looked good on him, Noctis decided then. "Do you keep all of your pictures digital or-"

"No, no," Prompto interjected. It surprised Noctis, but didn't bother him, so he let Prompto keep talking. "I love actual glossy copies of pictures, you know? That way, if the power ever goes down or if there's ever a time, like Hour Twenty-Five-" he paused to chuckle softly- "when I can't use my camera to see them, I still have them."

Noctis nodded his understanding. "I know what you mean," he mused, gesturing down to his sketch pad. "I feel the same way about this. Crowe teases me sometimes, tells me to stop being a dinosaur and get a tablet. But I like this better." Once he finished speaking, he set glanced down at his notepad and smiled a little at the finished product. It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't bad. It looked _almost_ like Bahamut, and would look even more like him once he filled it in.

Sharing passions seemed to make Prompto a lot more comfortable. He was smiling as he jabbed his fork into another piece of potato. "What do you draw, usually?" he asked, his eyes falling to Noctis' notebook.

Glancing down at his sketchpad, Noctis came to a decision. He flipped a couple of pages back, finding the sketch he'd started of Prompto and tearing the page out. "Believe it or not," he started, hoping to draw Prompto's attention away from his movements, "it's pretty much the same as you. Anything. Everything." Sliding the disconnected paper underneath his pillow, he closed the sketchpad completely and scootched to the edge of his bed. "Here," he offered. "Why don't you have a look for yourself."

That seemed to take Prompto off guard, but he reached out, accepting the notebook with one hand and using the other to place his open plastic container on the table. "Really?" he breathed in question.

With a shrug and a nod, Noctis smiled. "I mean, they're not professional or anything," he warned, reaching out to gather the plastic container with his food. "But I don't mind if you look." Especially now that the only real embarrassing sketch was underneath his pillow and out of view. For once, Noctis was kind of grateful for Prompto's anxiety, because he didn't suspect that his new friend would ask after it.

He was proven right, when Prompto simply flipped back the top page of the sketchpad and started looking over his drawings. He was quiet for a few seconds after every new page, but behind his glasses, his bright blue eyes grew wider with each image. "Wow," he finally spoke, after flipping past the fourth page. "Daemons, still-lives... Luna, Nyx, and Crowe..." He turned to look at Noctis, blinking, and then turning to look back at the sketchpad.

"Like I said, anything," Noctis repeated with a chuckle.

Prompto grinned. "These are incredible," he told Noctis. "This one of Galdin Quay looks like it belongs in a gallery."

Noctis chuckled, embarrassed. "You wouldn't believe how long that one took me. It was my fifth try, too." His smile was sheepish, as he finally cut into his fish and took a bite.

As Prompto flipped another page, he stopped completely and blinked at the page. "Is this that dragon?" he urged, pointing at the page. "The one you summoned?"

"Mmhmm," Noctis muttered through a full mouth. "Bahamut."

Violet-blue eyes still scanned the sketch, but through pink lips came a question. "That's its name, then? I heard you shout that."

As Noctis stabbed a couple of pieces of potato with his fork, he nodded. "Yeah. Man. No matter how many times I think about what happened, it never sounds less insane, but..." He didn't look up, didn't dare see Prompto's face when he explained what that voice in his head told him. "When that sigil appeared, some voice in my head told me that he was... an aeon or something? That he was the me that I hide inside, or whatever. Didn't know I hid a dragon inside me or anything, but... it sounds kinda cool, doesn't it? The dragon within." After he finished speaking, he went completely quiet and waited for Prompto's response.

Nothing came, and it made Noctis all the more nervous. "You can tell me I'm insane, you know? It's okay. I mean, I probably am-"

"No," Prompto shook his head. "No, I don't think you're insane. I saw it with my own eyes, right? The sigil. The dragon. So, if you're insane, then so am I. And so are Cin and Nea and all your friends. I don't know what happened in your mind or anything, but if you say that it's your aeon and its name is Bahamut, I believe you." He closed the notebook and set it at the foot of Noctis' bed.

Noctis glanced at him, huffing a chuckling breath. "Thanks. To be honest, I'm not even sure I believe me," he remarked.

"I mean, it happened, didn't it?" Prompto pointed out. "Kinda wish I could've gotten a picture of it. To show Cor and Weskham what we saw. My camera doesn't work in Hour Twenty-Five, though." He picked his food back up and jabbed a few green beans with his fork.

Oh, right. Prompto didn't even know about Hour Twenty-Five until a few days ago, so aside from Noctis' own bits of electronics that still functioned, there was no way he could know about the techs who made things Twenty-Five compatible. Noctis shrugged a shoulder, smiling at his friend as he finished a bite of fried potato.

"You know," he explained, "there are techs that can tweak your camera and whatever else you want to make it functional in Twenty-Five. Like how your friend Cindy was using that big gun? I'm pretty sure that shouldn't be functional. She must know."

Prompto blinked. "Oh. Yeah, I guess I should've pieced that together," he murmured, laughing a soft laugh at his own expense.

Shrugging, Noctis said, "too much was going on, it's okay."

"How much does that usually cost?" Prompto asked. "I mean, I've got some extra money, but I should probably save that for my glasses. And I'm-"

Noctis cut Prompto off with a shake of his head. "Don't worry about it," he offered. "Some of the techs in Galdin owe me a couple favors. I cleared out a pretty nasty infestation that was close to the resort. Saved their busy season. So, they said if I ever had any pieces I wanted tweaked, I could get it done for free." He scooped a couple pieces of potato and a bite of fish onto his fork, pointedly ignoring the green beans and shoving them into his mouth.

With eyes widening in surprise, Prompto shook his head. "I couldn't ask you to-"

"You didn't," Noctis pointed out. "I offered." It looked like Prompto was going to object again, but Noctis cut him off with a shake of his head. "I insist, alright? You're a member of the team. And having pictures of what happens out there might be good for Cor and Wesk. Maybe they'll be able to see things we miss, you know?"

It looked like Prompto was considering his options, as he stared at his meal like it could answer all of his questions. It almost seemed like he was afraid to agree, and it made Noctis worry a little bit more.

Breaking through the silence, Noctis continued. "Besides," he added, "you're my friend. So, let me do this for you, okay?" He placed his plastic container—empty of everything but the green beans—on the table, before picking the dessert one up and prying it open.

Prompto's expression softened, though surprise still lined his features. Thinking back to the first couple days after they met, how surprised he was every time Noctis said something nice to him, made Noctis worry a little. It was obvious that Aranea and Cindy were nice to him; that they cared about him. The way Aranea regarded Noctis in suspicion showed how protective she was. Cindy always seemed to have a kind word or two to say to Prompto, and she was protective too. Though she wasn't as harsh as Aranea was. Prompto spoke highly of Cindy's grandfather, too. Why, then, was he so surprised when someone offered him a kindness? When someone offered him friendship?

"If you're sure," Prompto muttered, finishing the last of his dinner and exchanging for his dessert.

Noctis nodded. "I am sure," he answered with a smile. "We'll go tomorrow. Whether or not anyone wants to come with us. Sound good?"

As Prompto nodded, Noctis couldn't help but smile. He resolved, as the pair of them fell into silence, to make sure that Prompto got used to kindnesses. To people outside of Aranea and Cindy looking out for him. He deserved it. He deserved a _whole_ lot better than what the world decided to give him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be ghost for a few days, while I play Persona 5!
> 
> Bet I come back with 32094812904 new ideas!


	12. Trip

The Leiden sun beat down, warming Prompto's face and making the car's black paint incredibly hot to the touch, but right now, he didn't care. It was his second time in Noctis' car, but now he was fully awake and could enjoy it more than he had the first time. The wind whipping around Prompto's face was exhilarating. His glasses protected his eyes from the dryness of the air, so he could truly relax. It was alarming how relaxed he was, honestly. Around Noctis, he couldn't help but feel calmer than usual. Maybe it was because Noctis hadn't judged him. Or, maybe it was the way Noctis was always so nice to him. Maybe it was because when Noctis smiled, none of Prompto's issues seemed quite as obvious.

Prompto wasn't sure what it was. Whatever it _was_ , though, it had him kind of glad that no one else had wanted to come along on this little trip to the beach. Not that he didn't like Noctis' friends. He did. He liked them a lot, actually. Ignis was very, very nice, and so were Iris and Luna. Crowe, Nyx, and Gladiolus had the same sort of kindness as Aranea did. Underneath a tough exterior, but still very much there. They'd all teased Prompto and Noctis about not getting into any trouble when a request from Prompto's dad turned their day trip into an overnight trip.

The request was simple. Not something the whole group needed to go along for. Prompto was supposed to gather some sort of rare polymer from a colleague of Loqi's, and bring it back to Prompto's dad for whatever experiment he was working on. The meeting was just before sundown, and since Noctis was technically still supposed to be on bed rest, Cor told them that it wasn't a problem for Noctis to go with Prompto. Prompto was honestly grateful, too. He didn't want to meet with one of Loqi's contacts alone. They tended to be sleazy. And they always tended to have a low opinion of Prompto for some reason.

Adding a little bit more merit to Prompto's theory, about there being some unresolved regret between Noctis and Gladiolus—Gladio, he'd insisted that Prompto call him—was the request that Gladio made of Prompto before he and Noctis left on this little overnight road trip. While Prompto put his overnight bag in the trunk of Noctis' car, Gladio had pulled him aside and requested, in a voice that was way, way softer than Prompto expected to hear from a man as large as Gladio was, that Prompto "keep Noct safe."

Gladio still cared about Noctis. Prompto could tell. Part of Prompto wondered exactly what had happened; why they'd fallen out when they still so obviously cared for each other. That wasn't really any of his business, though. If it was, Noctis would probably have told him.

He turned his head toward Noctis, a ghost of a smile coming to his lips. The wind whipped Noctis' hair around, and Prompto couldn't help but marvel at how good he looked, even then. Rather than focusing on that, though, he cleared his throat and glanced back out the windshield at the ocean as it appeared in the distance.

"I love your car," Prompto told Noctis.

Noctis turned and looked at Prompto sidelong, quirking a half-smile. "Thanks. It was my dad's, but after everything, y'know, happened... he left it to me. Well, left it to us, but everyone kind of just assumes it's mine, since dad knew how much I loved it. After he died, and Weskham's team split from ours, Cor got a second car for us. That way we could always go to two places a night, you know? And Nyx never really felt right taking this car away from me, since it was my dad's, so..." He stopped then, shrugging his head to the side and sighing softly.

It made Prompto a bit jealous, honestly. "I only know how to drive because Cindy's granddad taught me. It was funny, though." He paused, laughing and glancing at his face in the side mirror. The sun reflected from the mirror and onto his glasses, making him wince and turn to look away. "I was so bad at it. I almost crashed the junker he was using to teach me to drive three times, before I finally got the hang of it."

Smirking a little, Noctis asked, "but you did get the hang of it, right?" as he slowed down to stop at a corner.

"I mean, yeah," Prompto half-smiled, nodding his acknowledgment. "I borrow Cindy's car sometimes, or Aranea's, when she lets me. I know how to drive." He didn't really get to do it much, but he did have a driver's license.

They'd been stopped at the corner for a little longer than a necessary stop would dictate, Prompto couldn't help but notice. He was about to ask—he'd turned his head and opened his mouth, even—but before the question could escape, Noctis turned to him with a smirk that melted his insides and shrugged a shoulder. "Wanna drive the rest of the way?"

Prompto blinked. "Huh?"

Noctis shrugged again. "If you want. It's not like it's that far. We're almost there, right?"

It was true. Prompto could see the ocean, and the Galdin Resort right down the hill. Still, the offer to drive his car, which obviously meant so much to him, was surprising in the same way most of the things Noctis did were surprising to him. Noctis was as nice as he was cool, and while it was really, really great, it was also, well... surprising.

"Alright," Prompto muttered in response to the offer.

The whole time that they were switching sides, Prompto couldn't help but marvel at Noctis' kindness once again. It was the thousandth time he'd thought it since they met, sure. But it was no less true than it was any of the other times. Prompto watched Noctis as he walked around the car, and he was unable to contain a grin when Noctis knocked their shoulders together. He caught sight of Noctis shucking his leather jacket and tossing it into the back seat, before he turned his eyes down to the ground and jogged to get to the driver's seat.

It was a bit strange, sitting in the driver's seat of a car this nice. Prompto reached down for the handle to adjust the seat, but then remembered that it wasn't his car and his hand froze in place. Noctis was watching him, the expression on his friend's face curious, not angry. That more than anything was what showed Prompto how silly he was being. It may have been Noctis' car, but Noctis was letting him drive, and he couldn't really drive if he couldn't reach the pedals right. He snapped himself out of it, grabbing the lever and adjusting the seat. Once he was situated, he checked traffic and pulled out into the road.

Something about being allowed to drive his new friend's car felt like a real show of trust. It both relaxed him and tensed him at the same time, in some kind of weird paradox. He could feel Noctis' eyes on him as he drove, and cast a sidelong glance back his way. "Thanks," he said as he turned his eyes back to the road, "for letting me drive, I mean. It's a pretty big deal."

"Not really," Noctis answered. "I mean, I can't imagine you ending us up in a ditch or anything..."

Prompto laughed. "I _did_ tell you how I almost crashed three times when Cid was trying to teach me to drive, right?" he asked, still not taking his eyes from the road. "Sure, I'm definitely a lot more comfortable behind the wheel than I was back then, but I'm not really a stranger to the ditch." Not an exact truth; he'd never _actually_ crashed. Just come close.

Noctis laughed gently. "If we do, you'll just have to talk Cindy's granddad into fixing it up for me, is all." He still didn't seem concerned.

"Cid wouldn't have to be talked into it. Remember what I told you? He really, really likes this car." Prompto found himself relaxing a little more as he drove. The car was nice; it drove like a dream, and somehow the wind whipping his hair around felt even better from the driver's seat. "I think I saw your friend Nyx hanging around in the garage with him when we left, too."

Chuckling fondly, Noctis nodded. "Nyx has more or less been maintaining the car solo. Bet he's been soaking up all the info he can from Cid. Comparing notes, maybe," he murmured, leaning his head back against the headrest and looking up at the sky.

Prompto smiled, and the pair fell into silence for a few seconds. On Prompto's part, it was a contemplative silence. He thought about how, over the course of a week or so, his whole life somehow felt different. Most of it was the same. He still had the same dad, the same brother, he still lived in the same place—though, the fact that the two teams were merging may have seen that change soon, wouldn't it?—and he still had Aranea and Cindy. But on the flip side, now he had even _more_ friends. He knew of this hour that only a select few people knew about, and had seen things that most people hadn't seen.

It didn't really make him special or anything. Noctis and his friends had gone through it for years, after all. And, apparently, so had Cindy and Aranea. That thought still threw him for a loop. "I can't believe Cindy and Aranea knew about Hour Twenty-Five for all these years," he mused with a half-chuckle as he turned onto the road that would lead them to Galdin Quay.

"I know, right? And the only reason neither of you knew was because of those sleeping pills." Noctis' head was leaning back against the headrest, turned up toward the sky, with eyes closed. "I can only imagine what it must have been like when you all found out, too. Fighting off all of those daemons, expecting the others to crystallize, and panicking."

Prompto laughed again. "Yeah, it was more or less that," he murmured. "I was freaking out. I thought I was gonna have to fight the daemons on my own and protect both their crystals at the same time. When they didn't I was, like... both relieved and confused. I feel really bad, because that's what ended up getting Aranea hit by the Giant." He frowned as he glanced over at an oncoming car in the other lane. Nowhere near as cool as this car.

Huffing a breath of not-quite-laughter that was almost drowned out by the sound of the other car as it passed, Noctis continued. "At least you know now. And they agreed to work with us, which is pretty awesome."

Normally, the feeling of eyes on him made Prompto nervous. And yeah, Noctis' eyes on him were making him kind of nervous, too. It wasn't the same kind of nervousness he was used to feeling in this situation, though. The gaze was gentle, and Prompto honestly would have been more upset if Noctis suddenly stopped looking at him. The crack in his glasses obstructed his view of Noctis, unless he actually turned his head to look. Most of the time, he would have. Now, though, because Noctis had trusted him to drive, he kept his eyes on the road.

"I _am_ looking forward to that," Prompto confessed. "I wonder if this means we'll have to come move to hunter HQ with you guys."

Shaking his head no, Noctis chuckled. "We don't technically live in Meldacio," he explained. "We don't, um... we don't really live _anywhere_ , actually. Meldacio just happens to be where we rest our heads on nights when we're not camping out. But it's been awhile since I've had a solid home. From when Insomnia fell until about a year ago, I lived in a hunter compound outside of Lestallum, but since then... not really." The tone in his voice was sad and wistful, and Prompto could tell why.

Instead of asking for him to expand any further, Prompto asked, "so does that mean you guys will, like, move into Hammerhead or something?" It was impossible to keep the tiniest hint of excitement from his tone. Noctis and his friends moving into town would be awesome. "Or are we gonna have to adopt the nomad lifestyle, too?"

Adopting a nomadic lifestyle honestly sounded kind of fun. It had always been a personal goal of Prompto's; traveling and seeing different places, so if that ended up being what had to happen, he was totally on board. Cindy and Aranea, he could only imagine, would've been too. As long as they were together. Cindy had always wanted to see the world, too. She'd seen parts of it; she'd been to more places than Prompto had, at least. Living the lifestyle that Noctis was describing would probably appeal to her, too.

"A little of both, maybe?" Noctis answered. "I think Cor and Weskham like it in Hammerhead. They seem to get along well with Cid."

Prompto nodded. "I noticed that, too. They went to the bar together the first night after Cor and Weskham got to town and were talking like old friends when they left. It was pretty funny. I've never actually seen Cid like that before," he mused.

Noctis hummed a little note. "I don't think I've seen Cor and Weskham that familiar with someone who isn't us, either. I mean, other than my dad and Uncle Clarus. It must be nice for them too, actually."

Part of Prompto wondered if the three men had some kind of history, but he didn't ask. If they did, it seemed like Noctis didn't know, either. It didn't matter, though. Especially not right now, as they'd driven into Galdin Quay. As he slowed down to meet the small beach town's speed limit, Prompto smiled. The salty sea air smelled nice and calming. The breeze was cooler from up close, a nice, stark contrast to living in the desert. If he could choose to live anywhere in the world, it would probably be somewhere like this. The resort was in the middle of the quaint ocean town, and Prompto assumed that was where they were going, but he heard movement from the passenger's seat that indicated that Noctis was sitting up. Since they were stopped at an intersection, he chanced to glance over at his friend, who was pointing at a parking lot not too far away.

"Park there," Noctis suggested. "Sometimes the traffic here is so slow that it's faster to walk to get to where we need to go."

Whether or not Prompto would have objected—he wouldn't have, of course—was irrelevant. It was Noctis' car, and Noctis was doing him a huge favor, so he was just happy to be along for the ride. He did as he was directed, turning the blinker on and pulling into the small parking lot. The car slowed to a stop, and Prompto cut the engine, then turned around to grab his messenger bag from the back seat. Noctis put the top on his car up, then muttered a request for Prompto to put his window up. Security, probably, since it didn't look like there was a chance in hell that it was going to rain.

Once the car was all secured, though, Prompto looked around. It wasn't the first time he'd been here, no. But it had been a little while. "I love it here," he muttered quietly, pulling in a deep breath of the salty sea air.

"Me too," Noctis agreed. "Not as pretty as Altissia, but it's still nice. If you want, we can loiter around after we meet with my contacts and get your stuff fixed. Maybe we can go get some dinner at the resort cafe."

Could Prompto afford that? He'd been to the resort cafe once with Aranea and Cindy when he still in high school, and Cindy had paid with some kind of hunter bonus that they'd gotten for taking out some kind of massive daemon after he'd gone home to go to bed. A monster in Hour Twenty-Five, he assumed now. He remembered that they'd talked about it being expensive, and he found himself worrying about affording it.

Seeming to read his mind, Noctis shrugged a shoulder. "My treat," he suggested.

"You don't have to-"

Noctis shook his head. "I know," he insisted as they started along the sidewalk to meet up with Noctis' contacts. "But we're gonna be here overnight, so we might as well enjoy it, right? You can't come to the Quay without having some seafood, Prom."

The nickname surprised him. _Really_ surprised him, actually. So much that he completely stopped walking and looked at Noctis with eyes wide and blinking. Prom. It was weird, hearing that from someone who wasn't Cindy or Aranea. Somehow, though, coming from Noctis' lips... it felt okay. It felt... right, even. Swallowing nervously, he realized that he'd been standing there, frozen, for a few seconds now. Taking a couple of jogging steps, he caught up to Noctis.

Without meeting Noctis' eye, instead focusing on the ground, he answered. "Okay... N-Noct."

Prompto only used the nickname because he'd heard Ignis use it in the hospital, and a few times since. It felt a little weird as it rolled off his tongue, but at the same time, it felt just as right as Noctis using his nickname felt. Nerves kept his eyes on the ground after he spoke, but the gentle nudge Noctis gave his shoulder made him raise his head and glance at his friend again. A couple of buildings behind him were blurred by the cracked spot in Prompto's glasses, but he could see Noctis as clear as day, smiling at him. To most people, it may not have seemed like a huge deal, but a nickname was a pretty big deal to Prompto. It signified comfort. Friendship that _wasn't_ just fleeting.

"So, um..." Despite Prompto's nerves, he shrugged his head to the side. "Where's this contact of yours?" And who, but mostly where right now.

Noctis looked out, the smile fading into a contemplative straight face. "A couple blocks away. They're this young couple, who've been married for like, three years now. Dino and Coctura Ghiranze. He owns this jeweler's shop, which connects to her antiques shop. And in the back, they both adjust tech with some kind of sensor that makes it compatible to Twenty-Five. I don't really know how it works, but they should be able to do it for your camera and your watch without a problem."

With a nod, Prompto chuckled. "Normally I don't trust anyone with my camera," he admitted. "But if it'll make it so it can take pictures in Hour Twenty-Five, I guess it's worth it."

"Maybe, after we get that polymer from your dad's friend, we can do some minor hunting until Twenty-Five starts?" Noctis' suggestion was spoken quietly, like he was nervous to say it. Most likely because he knew that he was supposed to be on bed rest, and Prompto was completely aware of that.

Which was why he spoke up. "But you-"

Noctis huffed a sigh. "I know. But I really do feel fine. I'm getting restless. Like I need to get out there again, you know? I usually like doing nothing, but right now, it's killing me." The pleading look that Noctis flashed Prompto could probably move mountains if it had to.

It was probably a bad thing in this case, too. Noctis was supposed to be on bed rest. At the same time, though, Prompto completely understood feeling antsy. Put himself into Noctis' shoes, and he'd probably feel pretty antsy, too. He cast Noctis a sidelong glance and hummed to himself. "I dunno why you're asking me permission, honestly," he said, instead of giving a favorable or unfavorable answer. "Pretty sure you can do whatever you want."

"Right, but," Noctis shrugged. "Rule number one in the hunter handbook is never hunt alone. The only reason I was alone the day we met, was because I was supposed to be scouting. So..."

So, the unspoken question was if Prompto would go with him. Prompto turned and glanced at him with a soft and humorless chuckle. "I mean... I can't let you go alone, can I? Well, I can, I guess. But I wouldn't. Even if I think this is probably the worst idea you could possibly come up with." It probably wasn't. But at the moment, it definitely seemed like it.

The beaming smile on Noctis' face could probably have moved more mountains than his pleading expression, Prompto decided. In the next couple of seconds, Prompto felt himself being tugged into a hug. A familiar hug; a hug that he hadn't been able to get out of his mind since the week prior on his front step. Noctis' arms wrapped around him again, and it melted him just as much as it had the first time.

"You're the best," Noctis declared.

Prompto chuckled as he hugged Noctis back. "Small daemons, right?" he asked against Noctis' shoulder.

"Yeah. And only until Twenty-Five. Promise." Noctis finally let his arms fall to his sides. " _And_ only after dinner."

As Prompto released Noctis from the hug, he fell back into step beside Noctis, and they fell into a comfortable silence as they continued their journey to meet up with Noctis' contacts. As they walked, Prompto came to realize just how much trouble he was in. So short a time, and Noctis could already get him to agree to ideas that he thought were probably not too good? It was fine. Everything would be fine, as long as they were back at the hotel before Hour Twenty-Five. Prompto would have to make sure Noctis didn't get too carried away, was all.


	13. Feast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI FRIENDS. I'M NOT DEAD. So, so sorry about the long absence. Between computer errors, birthdays, and friendly visitors, I've had very little time! Updates still may be somewhat sporadic, but I am back and will _try_ to keep things going at a somewhat decent pace! ♥
> 
> HOPING THIS IS UP TO MY USUAL STANDARD. I've had the first half written on gdocs for months, and just haven't been able to finish it! I needed to get over this little hurdle to move on to the next chapter! :)

"So, the Hour Twenty-Five display will show up here," Prompto muttered under his breath as they sat in the room they'd be spending the night in.

Noctis' favors had allowed him one of the better rooms in the resort for free, and after Prompto spent half an hour out on the balcony taking pictures of the late afternoon horizon, he had turned to sit on one of the beds and look his watch over. Dino made his adjustments, putting the small display that just looked like a second hand that had died, but would activate at midnight and last for the hour. His camera had just needed a crystal core, but his watch had needed a crystal core, plus that display. Noctis had bought a pair of long range radios on the way to Dino's shop, and had the man set them both up to be Twenty-Five compatible. They were the best on the market, with a range of up to fifty miles. The plan was to give the second one to Prompto so that they could always stay in touch with each other, but he couldn't really figure out how to say it without sounding weird.

So, for now, the pair of Twenty-Five compatible walkie-talkies sat on his hotel bed while Noctis worked up his nerve. Prompto had abandoned examining his watch to look his camera over again, his worry fading to a smile when he realized that Dino really _hadn't_ done anything other than put the crystal in, to make them compatible to Hour Twenty-Five.

Noctis understood the trepidation. The first time he'd handed some of the really expensive equipment his dad had left to him over to Dino, he'd been nervous. Really nervous. The jeweler didn't exactly ooze trustworthiness, after all. Time had showed him to be as honest a businessman as he was a skilled jeweler, though. Noctis trusted him with a job. Maybe not to watch his back in a crisis, but that was fine. Not every day was a crisis.

"I can't believe it was that easy to convert my stuff," Prompto muttered, turning his eyes to look up at Noctis. "I thought I'd have to leave my camera with that guy and that he'd like, fix it overnight and we'd pick it up in the morning."

Noctis half-smiled, leaning against the balcony's door frame. "Nah," he answered. "Dino always puts me in front of the others. Saved the town, but I also kinda helped them personally. They were trapped, and would've crystallized in a cave just off the beach a short distance. Killed the daemons that were keeping them stuck and gave them a clear path to get home."

"I knew you were a hero," Prompto half-smiled, abandoning his examination of his watch to give Noctis praise.

Noctis really didn't think of himself as a hero. Mostly, he figured, because he was fully aware of the fact that there were so many people every night that he didn't save. Still, the way Prompto was looking at him made a really warm and pleasant feeling bubble up in his chest. It was the same gentle and friendly (but still nervous and tentative) smile that Prompto always gave him, sure, but Noctis could swear that he saw some admiration there, too. Maybe it was a bold assumption, especially when he didn't know Prompto that well at all. There was a look in his eyes, though; one that was similar to the one he'd worn when they'd had breakfast that second day on the train, when he praised Noctis for selflessness.

Shaking his head no, Noctis shrugged a shoulder. "Not so much a hero, as someone who just… has a vendetta against daemons, I guess." A brief pause, in which he could see the unasked questions in Prompto's expression, and Noctis shook his head hard. "C'mon. We were gonna go to dinner, remember? I don't know about you, but I'm pretty damn hungry."

It looked like Prompto wanted to ask. A selfish piece of Noctis didn't want him to, though. Prompto seemed to think that he was something special right now; that he was cool and brave. Hearing about how he'd frozen up—how he'd just sat there and done _nothing_ when a daemon's sword ripped through his dad and Gladio's dad—would change that. It was stupid and unfair, being so attached to the thought that Prompto saw him as so amazing. Being so attached to seeing the sparkle in his eye. Stupid because he had no right to, unfair because Prompto didn't know the whole story.

"Me too, kinda," Prompto nodded his head and pushed himself to his feet. His eyes were on the ground now, that unspoken question lingering between them like an ugly tear in the air.

Awkward. His rapid closure of the topic had made things awkward. Guilt bubbled up and made him turn to glance out the window. The sun was nearing the horizon. Not yet low enough to make the sky change color, but low enough to brighten the room without lights on. The Galdin sky was bright blue as far as the eye could see, the only thing _not_ blue in his vision was the sun. He turned to glance back toward Prompto, a silent apology in his expression. Maybe he should have spoken up, _actually_ apologized, but not knowing whether he'd actually made things weird or not… he didn't want to make it worse.

They were quiet still, as they left the room and moved toward the elevator. Prompto's eyes were on his watch, and Noctis couldn't bring himself to grab his new friend's attention away. The distraction was enough to keep things from getting any worse. That was good, too. Noctis didn't need any help being awkward. He was good enough at that on his own.

As the elevator doors closed, Prompto turned and looked at him again. "Um… y'know," he murmured, his eyes on his camera now, which he'd taken from his messenger bag back in the room and hung from his neck. "I don't think there's anyone who doesn't have some kind of vendetta against daemons."

"Well, no, I guess not," Noctis chuckled humorlessly, rubbing a hand along his neck.

Prompto nodded. "And I mean, most people who _do_ have their vendetta don't do what you do. _Can't_ do what you do. But I know of people who would find out that they _could_ do what you do and just… wouldn't. You save lives, Noct," he pointed out. "And if that's not heroic, I dunno what is."

The words were bittersweet. Bitter, because despite not feeling that they were true, he could tell that Prompto meant them, and sweet for the very same reason. Rather than spoil the pleasant mood with that observation, he turned to Prompto before the elevator doors opened. "We. What _we_ do. _We_ save lives. We're on the team together now, remember?" he asked, nudging Prompto in the shoulder and watching as the doors opened in front of them.

With a soft laugh, Prompto nodded and fell into step beside Noctis as they walked through the elevator doors. "I guess so," he muttered.

"Don't need to guess," he pointed out, draping an arm over Prompto's shoulders.

Prompto didn't cringe away from his touch. There was a slight indication of uncertainty in the fact that he tensed for a moment, but the tension faded just as quickly, as Prompto let his camera hang back down again and turned his head to smile at Noctis. "I guess not," he teased, his voice more confident and comfortable than Noctis had ever heard it before.

Conversation eased a little from there. They were quiet, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable as they walked from the elevator to the restaurant. Going through the doors, Noctis smiled a little bit. It had been a little while since he'd been here, mostly because he didn't like coming alone and he liked going with Luna, Nyx, and Crowe even less. Everyone always assumed Crowe was his girlfriend, which was an absolutely weird and gross concept to both of them. With Prompto, he didn't mind. Sharing a nice meal with a new friend. A new friend who may have even needed a friend more than Noctis did.

As the hostess showed them to their seats, a small booth in the back corner of the room, Noctis cast his eyes around. Most of the tables were full. Families enjoying dinner together, several small groups of friends, a couple of businessmen discussing a deal over a massive pile of appetizers, several couples, and then Noctis and Prompto.

They sat down, ordered their drinks, and took their menus, and Noctis watched as Prompto scanned his closely. In the background, some corny top 40 song played, and Noctis could hear the gentle taps of Prompto's shoes on the floor, keeping beat with the music. His focus was still singularly on the menu, though.

"Last time I was here, I got the sea bass fillet. I'm thinking of going for that again. What about you?" Noctis asked, breaking the silence but turning his eyes back to look at his menu again.

Prompto was quiet for a few moments once again, staring at the menu, and then in a voice that sounded more like the nervous voice he'd used on the train, he said, "u-um… the Galdin Grouper plate?"

It was stated more like a question than an actual certain statement. Like he didn't exactly _want_ the dish, but he would settle for it. Noctis glanced at the menu again, seeking the dish out. When he found it, his eyebrows furrowed and he looked it over. Not only had Noctis tried it and found it to be less than desirable—it was just fish surrounded by sprouts, beans, and carrots, also known as the unholy trinity of vegetables—but it was by far the least expensive thing on the menu. It probably shouldn't have been suspicious, but Noctis had noticed a troubling trend of Prompto stopping himself before he allowed himself too much indulgence. Maybe it was a bold assumption, especially since he didn't really know Prompto at all; but Noctis had a feeling that he was holding himself back. That he wasn't going for what he wanted, for fear of asking too much.

That wasn't even an issue, though.

Glancing back at Prompto, Noctis arched an eyebrow. "Who comes to a seafood restaurant to eat veggies with a tiny bit of fish on it, though? And grouper? The grouper here's not that good." He made a face. "They get it from Niflheim, and all the fish there tastes kind of weird."

"Right, but it's not that expensive. And I-"

Noctis shook his head no. "For a reason, man," he pointed out.

Prompto still seemed hesitant, and it made Noctis feel somewhat sad. He understood; of course he did. They were still relative strangers, and accepting favors from a stranger like that could be uncomfortable. With that in mind, if he wasn't going to make the choice himself, Noctis would make a couple of recommendations. Nothing too expensive, because that would most likely make Prompto all the more uncomfortable. He eyed the menu, then looked back at his new friend with a warm smile.

"The trevally is really good. And so is the shellfish platter." As he spoke, he moved to the other side of the booth they sat in, urging Prompto to the side and pointing each item out on the menu. "Don't worry about the cost, okay? I can afford it."

The hesitance wasn't surprising, and Prompto raked his teeth over his lip in consideration. "I haven't had shellfish in a long time," he murmured, his voice quiet. It wasn't the most expensive thing on the menu, but it was twice as much as the horrible grouper plate. And it tasted about ten times better, too.

Noctis turned his head to look at Prompto, who was still more or less singularly focused on his menu. His eyes were blocked by a curtain of blond hair, and the only thing Noctis could see on the other side was a slight peek of the frames on his glasses. "Tell you what," he called, watching as Prompto turned to look at him. "We can split it. The shellfish platter here is _huge_ and that'd probably make you feel better about the price, right?"

Eyeing the dish on the menu quietly for a few more seconds, Prompto raked his teeth over his lip and then nodded his head. "Alright," he murmured in a quiet voice. Unsure.

"Hey," Noctis muttered, setting his menu down on the table and nudging Prompto with his elbow in the arm. "Don't worry about it, okay? Seriously. I get that you're uncomfortable, and I get why. But trust me. I don't mind." There was more on the tip of his tongue. How he liked spending time with Prompto. Other things that probably would have made the conversation all the more awkward. So instead, he just smiled and hoped that his point got across.

Unfortunately, any answer he may have gotten was drowned out by the waitress, who arrived with their drinks to take their order. The clear of her throat as she set the two beverages down on the table and took her notebook out snagged Noctis' attention from Prompto. "Decided what you want yet?" she asked, with a genuine smile on her face.

Noctis nodded at her as he unwrapped his straw from its paper wrapping. "We're gonna split the shellfish platter," he explained. "Maybe with some extra fries..." That was added as an afterthought. 

The smile on her face was a little coy—not in a flirtatious way, or maybe it was; Noctis had never really been any good at reading those types of situations—as she looked between Noctis and Prompto. "You got it, boys. Be back in a few!" And with a wink, which could have meant any number of things, she took the menus back and turned to move on to her next table.

Honestly, the whole exchange had Noctis staring at his drink for a few seconds, before bringing the straw to his lips. "So, what's this thing your dad wants you to get?" he asked, trying to change the subject and get his mind off of trying to figure out what the waitress was winking at.

Prompto turned to Noctis in surprise, then raked his teeth over his lip. "I'm not, uh... I don't know..." he admitted quietly. "I don't ask questions, honestly." His tone was most definitely loaded; very quiet, almost inaudible, and layered with no shortage of concern.

"Why not?" Noctis asked. "If he's gonna send you to get something, doesn't it make sense that you should know what it is?"

Though, truthfully, Noctis had never really gotten the impression that Prompto's dad was a very forthcoming person, so this didn't come as much of a surprise. Not that Noctis knew him terribly well, but the first impression was that he'd sent Prompto hours away to get a crystal—a crystal that he could get literally anywhere in the world, a thought which had occurred to Noctis while Prompto had been talking to Dino earlier that day—without concern or care for his well-being. Now, he was sending Prompto to meet with a random contact, to pick up an item that he'd never identified. What if it was dangerous? Wasn't it better if Prompto knew? Those unpleasant questions spun in Noctis' mind and almost drowned out Prompto's answer.

An answer which was, initially, only a shake of the head. "He never tells me. He only told me last time because I wasn't picking it up from a person. I don't ask anymore. I did once, and..." His expression fell further. "Well, I don't anymore."

Noctis eyed his drink again. Verstael hadn't stricken him as a physically abusive man or anything, but the way he'd treated Prompto; the way he'd _looked_ at Prompto... the way Prompto seemed to have a very low sense of self-worth? Noctis didn't know a lot about psychology or anything, but that definitely added up to why Prompto didn't ask anymore. It made Noctis all the angrier, and made him desperate to get Prompto the hell away from his father's influence.

"Why do you go?" Noctis asked, tearing little slits in the corner of his napkin to hold his attention. "Why do you do what he asks, if he never gives you all the details? And isn't even grateful for what you _do_ bring to him?"

The question surprised Noctis almost as much as it seemed to have surprised Prompto. It wasn't like it was any of his business, really. Prompto's dad and brother had brought that up when he'd met them a few days ago, and as much as he wished that it wasn't true, it really was. That thought alone—mixed with the fact that Prompto didn't look like he was going to answer at first—had him opening his mouth to apologize and take the question back.

Before the words could escape, though, Prompto _did_ answer. "I don't like to, believe me," he murmured. "And I... I _wouldn't_ if I didn't owe him my life." His voice grew slightly more passionate the more he spoke. "It makes me really, really nervous, meeting up with these sketchy contacts, getting this stuff and not even... not even knowing what it _is_. But I have to." He wasn't looking at Noctis, instead, he nervously traced the marbling of the table with a finger and pulled in a deep breath.

"Besides," Prompto continued, "he's my dad. It's not like I can say no."

To that, Noctis didn't have an immediate argument. Yeah, Noctis' own dad had been a night and day difference from Prompto's, and if he'd sent Noctis on some sort of fetch mission, he'd always have told Noctis exactly what he was going to get and who he was meeting with. Most of Noctis' dad's contacts had been pretty above board, and had always thought of Noctis as an upstanding young man. The fact remained, though, that even if that wasn't the case, Noctis still would have done it without question. Because his dad was, well, his _dad_.

Because of that, he just nodded. "I understand."

Prompto nodded and sighed. "I... I've gotta admit, though..." he stumbled, and Noctis could tell that he was pushing slightly against a boundary once again, "it's a little easier to face with you here with me." Now, he was smiling shyly, and turning his head to glance at Noctis.

A tiny smirk found its way to Noctis' face. "Well, that just means I'll have to come with you every time now, huh? Since you'll be helping me with hunting and stuff, it only seems fair." He nudged Prompto with his shoulder. "Help for help and everything?"

"Wait, really? 'Cause I... I don't know when he's gonna ask me. It could be any time. In the middle of the night or when-"

Noctis cut Prompto off with a nod. "Yeah, really," he answered. "It's not a big deal. Most of the time, stuff for you has coincided with stuff for me and everything, but even if it doesn't, if you're gonna be talking to skeevy contacts and getting Astrals know what from them to bring to your dad for Astrals know what project? You shouldn't have to do it alone."

Prompto was quiet for a couple of seconds, glancing at the table. "Nea and Cin have offered a couple of times and I told them no," he admitted. "So, I don't technically have to. But... you really wouldn't mind?" He turned his eyes to Noctis again, tilting his head to the side in question.

While Noctis answered with a shake of his head, he had to wonder exactly why Prompto was willing to say yes to Noctis going with him but not to Aranea and Cindy. He didn't question it, though. If it meant that Prompto wouldn't be going on these questionable 'fetch quests' on his own anymore? Well, Noctis would be more than happy to set everything aside and go with his new friend.

"Alright..." Prompto murmured with a sheepish smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

Leaning his elbows on the table—he could almost hear Ignis in his head, lecturing him about poor manners, which defiantly made him relax a little more and lean his chin in his hands—Noctis shrugged. "Besides, that means we can take the show on the road a little bit, right? Do some hunting in the places that your dad's adventures bring us."

Any response Prompto may have given was cut off by the waitress' return. The massive plate of shellfish she presented them seemed to be more than the standard order, and the waitress smiled when she told them that it was the least that they could do for the 'Galdin Savior.' Honestly, Noctis wanted to tell her not to call him that. At least not aloud. It was too late, though. She'd already said it, and pointed out that the manager insisted that dinner was on the house. After thanking her, Noctis turned to Prompto and chuckled awkwardly.

"See? No reason to feel bad about it, right? Not like either of us even have to pay for it." The tone in Noctis' voice likely showed how awkward he felt. He masked it by reaching for a scallop and dipping it in cocktail sauce.

Prompto was grinning, though. "Also leaves no question as to the fact that you're a hero," he pointed out, as he grabbed a piece of shrimp.

And just like that, they'd circled around to their conversation in the elevator. Noctis huffed a humorless laugh and looked at Prompto. "Am I ever gonna be able to convince you that I'm not a hero?" he asked. Once again, he marveled at the double-edged sword of it all. He liked the way Prompto looked at him, but it wasn't fair.

Likely, the only way to stop it was to tell him exactly why he wasn't a hero. But he wasn't ready to do that just yet. Maybe not ever.

"Nope," Prompto answered securely with a gentle smile on his face.

That single word was the most confident Noctis had ever heard Prompto's voice, and it was almost enough to make him forget the bad side of being seen as a hero. Almost, but not quite. Instead, he just chuckled a single note and picked up a couple of fries, popping them into his mouth rather than reply.

Dinner continued in a mix of casual conversation—about any manner of things between art, photography, music... casual conversational topics that Noctis didn't commonly talk about with anyone, really—and comfortable silence for another half hour or so. It made him all the more grateful for this budding friendship. Of course, he had friends, and he knew that he could talk to them about anything. Most of the time, though, their conversations always devolved into things about daemons and Hour Twenty-Five. They didn't always start that way, but that's how they always ended up.

With Prompto, though, it seemed like they were talking about anything but. Their tastes weren't the same in most things. Prompto's musical taste was closer to the pop spectrum than Noctis' own, Noctis liked to read more than Prompto did... small differences, but ones that didn't stop them from enjoying each other's company and conversation. The conversation ended with a vague plan to see an action-adventure movie in the theater sometime. Honestly, Noctis couldn't even remember the last time he'd gone to the movies, but he was more than happy to put an end to that with Prompto. By the time they got to the bottom of their shellfish platter, Noctis was feeling better than he had in a long time for a dozen different reasons.

That was, until Prompto's phone went off in his pocket and his face immediately fell. The mood crashed to the ground like someone had thrown it off the table, and Noctis' smile wilted right alongside his friend's.

"Oh. That's um... that's my brother's contact. He said he's on his way, and told me to meet him... by the cliffside cave outside of town at eleven," Prompto explained, his tone hushed.

Noctis' expression darkened. Eleven o'clock. Outside of town and away from the protection of the daemon lights. His brow furrowed as he looked at their empty plate. "At eleven?" he asked, not looking up at Prompto. "And he thinks you're alone."

Prompto nodded. "It's not like... it's not really super out of the ordinary, Noct," he explained. "Usually when I do this it's outside of towns. And it's not like I can't... you know-"

"No, I'm not saying that," Noctis agreed. "I just... so close to Twenty-Five?" As far as Noctis knew, Prompto's dad wasn't aware of the fact that he could function in Hour Twenty-Five, so sending him out to meet a contact so close to midnight, when he was supposed to be under the effect of sleeping pills that could put him to sleep at any moment? It seemed way too close to sending him to his death.

That seemed to give Prompto pause, too. "Yeah, usually... usually it's earlier than this. But this guy... he said it had to be at eleven. He said he has a couple other people to meet up with before then," he explained, holding his phone up to display the message to Noctis.

'I've a couple more clients to meet with. Meet me at eleven at the cliffside cave,' the message, from a contact only known as RNF, read.

Nothing about this settled right in Noctis' stomach. It wasn't like he could tell Prompto to say no to his dad, though, since that was half of the reason they were out there to begin with. Not to mention the fact that Prompto had all but told him that he wouldn't say no to his father's wishes. So, with his cautions in mind, he turned to his friend and forced a smile to his face.

"Let's head back up to the room, then. Get ready, and head out at ten thirty..."


	14. Distress

Eleven rolled around, and then eleven thirty, and Prompto wasn't sure why his brother's contact wasn't here yet. This guy, this RNF, kept messaging with reasons, excuses why he hadn't shown up yet. His last client had trouble finding payment. His car had a flat tire. A ten on someone's bad day scale, all taking place in an hour. He sat on a rock at the meeting point, and sighed as he looked down at his phone. No messages since eleven fifteen, and the last one was telling Prompto that he was getting close to Galdin Quay.

Well, that was all well and good, but would do little to nothing if Hour Twenty-Five came around and all of the daemons in the fringes of Prompto's periphery attacked. His eyes turned to Noctis, who was watching the road diligently. The highway they'd driven to get here was clearly visible from where they sat, so Prompto suspected that he was watching for vehicles. Even though Noctis wasn't looking at him, Prompto's face twisted in apology. Shaking off the distraction, he turned out toward the horizon, too. The least he could do was keep watch. Still, an unspoken apology wasn't enough.

"I'm sorry," Prompto muttered. His voice was quiet, but loud enough for Noctis to hear him. At least he hoped so. "I didn't know that it would take this long. Usually when-"

Noctis cut him off, though. "Don't apologize. And don't sweat it, okay? It's... it's fine." His voice wasn't the certain and confident voice that Prompto had gotten used to, and that in and of itself was concerning. He was getting worried. "Whenever this contact gets here, though, I'm gonna have some choice words." The last part was spoken nonchalantly, back to his normal, confident self.

Choice words. Prompto chuckled softly at that. Maybe he should have protested a little bit, but honestly, he couldn't bring himself to. As much as Aranea and Cindy always stood up for him, it was really nice to have someone with him to do it right now. Noctis would probably do the same things Aranea or Cindy would have done if they were here. Noctis wouldn't let any of his brother's contacts push Prompto around. _You shouldn't need his help with that. Or Aranea's, or Cindy's. You should do it yourself..._ he told himself, a frown drawing his expression downward as he laughed a humorless laugh at his own expense. Yeah right. Like that would ever happen.

He sighed and glanced down at the walkie-talkie in his hand. A gift from Noctis, so that they could keep in touch if circumstance brought them apart or if some sort of emergency happened. When Noctis explained that he'd bought them and had Dino fix them to be compatible to Hour Twenty-Five, it was hard not to feel special. He barely stowed a question about why they didn't just fix their phones up, but he was sure that there was a good reason. For now, having a way to communicate with Noctis long-range was more than he could have thought to ask for. More than he ever would have expected.

Prompto's eyes turned toward the horizon along with Noctis'. No headlights, no signs that R was even on his way... nothing. Guilt dragged his eyes from the horizon and over to Noctis, who still diligently watched the road for any vehicles. If he kept dragging Noctis into dangerous situations like this, he definitely wouldn't want to stick around. And yet, he'd offered to come along whenever Prompto's dad sent Prompto on things like this.

"Things... they aren't usually this bad," Prompto promised Noctis before he could stop himself. "I mean, my brother's contacts are usually on time. They aren't the _nicest_ people in the world, but they're never this late."

With a shrug of reply, Noctis pushed himself off the wall and walked over to join Prompto where he sat on the rock. "No use staring at the horizon and waiting. He'll get here when he gets here, I guess. Long as it's before Twenty-Five. Mind if I sit?" he asked, gesturing to the open space beside Prompto on the rock. When Prompto shook his head, Noctis sat. "So, what have you been taking pictures of today, anyway?"

"Everything," Prompto chuckled softly.

For another couple of seconds, he was quiet. Glancing down to where his camera hung around his neck, where it dangled at his chest, he pondered the pictures there for a minute. What had he taken pictures of that day? Some of the beach when they walked through town to get to Dino's shop, some really cool architecture around town; he'd taken some of the ocean out the window of their hotel room... nothing really special. Just everything that caught his eye. Nothing that he wouldn't want Noctis to see.

It was that which emboldened him enough to allow him to ask, "do you want to see?"

When Noctis nodded, Prompto glanced down at his camera again. In the back of his throat was a question as to whether now was the time or not, but he bit it back and raised his head to look around. The daemons were at a reasonable distance, so as long as they didn't talk too much, too loud, they'd be okay. Besides, Prompto had to believe that the fire Noctis built would be enough to keep them out of danger for a little while. Daemons didn't like light, so as long as the firelight hit them, they'd be alright. He took the strap from his neck and handed his camera over to Noctis. A show of trust if he'd ever given one before.

It wasn't like it was the first time Noctis had touched his camera, anyway. That first night, on the train, he'd picked it up and brought it back to Prompto. Thinking back to how nervous he'd been talking to Noctis that night, before everything—even before all the insanity that they'd been through since—was almost enough to make him laugh right now. Just over a week, and he was already comfortable enough to stutter a lot less _and_ to willingly hand his camera over; something he could only say for Aranea and Cindy before now.

That trust, however, didn't stop the feeling of anxiety as he walked Noctis through getting to the pictures he'd taken. Noctis' silence as he scrolled through had Prompto raising his eyes to look at the road. A lone car drove past the turnoff to get to where they were, and Prompto glanced down at his watch, nervously. It was twenty to midnight. Or, twenty to Hour Twenty-Five, more appropriately. Where was R and why wasn't he here yet? Prompto checked his phone one more time, but when the last message he'd gotten was still at quarter past eleven, he couldn't help but be a little more concerned. Not just for himself and Noctis, but what if something had happened to the guy on the way to get to Prompto? The area around them looked quiet. Dark as a darkroom, but quiet, too. The only sound in his hearing range was the little swishing sound of Noctis filing through his photos. It was enough to distract him for now.

There wasn't much in the world that he was confident about, but he felt good enough about his photography to believe that Noctis wouldn't find it terrible. Or maybe it was Noctis that he felt that good about. As he looked at his friend, that feeling was more or less proven right when he saw the smile on Noctis' face.

"These are good," Noctis told him in a hushed tone. "How many filters do you have? I've noticed a lot of different ones."

When Prompto looked at the display, he smiled softly. "A whole lot. I like the vintage one a lot. You can probably tell because I use it the most," he murmured, pointing at a shot of the beach from outside the hotel as Noctis scrolled to it.

Noctis nodded. "I like it. It brightens flesh tones," he pointed out, gesturing with a pointed finger toward a couple of people around the edges of his shot. "And gives the whole thing a warmer feel." He turned his head to glance at Prompto and half-smiled. "You're really good. Did you ever think of doing it professionally?"

Did he ever think about it? More than he had ever really told anyone, honestly. Even Aranea and Cindy had only ever heard him call it a hobby. They probably knew; they always seemed to know the truth when it came to things like that after all. But he'd never told them. He turned to look at Noctis and nodded once, somberly. "Yeah. Sometimes," he lied. "But it's not like there's a ton of opportunity for it in Hammerhead."

With eyes still on Prompto's camera, Noctis shrugged a shoulder as he scrolled to the next picture. "Well, I mean, there are places other than Hammerhead. Lestallum has a booming photojournalism industry. And Altissia?" he added. "The galleries there, man... they're crazy. Have you ever been?" The smile on his face was honest and curious.

Prompto couldn't help but frown a little deeper, though. "No. I've only ever been through Altissia right before and after we met." It was just another way that Noctis was a thousand times more amazing and cool than Prompto was, honestly.

"We should go sometime. Not for work, just for fun. We can go to the photo museums and stuff," Noctis suggested, casually, like it was no big deal.

A trip to Galdin Quay, though, where he didn't really have to pay for anything because Noctis was the hero of the town, was completely different from a trip to an art museum in _Altissia_. Everything in Altissia had been ridiculously expensive when he'd gone through. If he saved, though, after he got his glasses, maybe they'd be able to go at the end of the year. "As long as you give me some time to save some money up, yeah, definitely."

Noctis was quiet for several seconds, during which he regarded Prompto and thought quietly. "I mean, it can be whenever you want. My dad had an apartment in Altissia that he left to our team, and Weskham has kept it in pretty nice shape, so we could stay there. I can't really cook, so the only expense we'd really have to do is-"

"I can cook," Prompto pointed out. "Not _great_ , and not a lot of different stuff, but I can cook. So..."

When Prompto turned his head to look at Noctis, Noctis was smirking that same smirk that always made his stomach do flips under his skin. "So what you're telling me," he pointed out, glancing back down at Prompto's camera, "is that there's nothing holding us back. Free room and board, the only travel cost will be gassing up my car, and grocery shopping. So, the next time we have a chance, we can go to Altissia and get your glasses fixed, and check out the museum. Right?" He scrolled to the next photo. "Seems sorta wrong that someone with this much talent hasn't seen it." As he reached the end of the camera roll, he handed it back to Prompto.

Prompto reached over for the camera, his fingers brushing against Noctis' as he took it from his friend's hand. It was a stupid brush of fingers against fingers. Stupid of him to even notice. But when all he expected was the cool synthetic feeling of his camera, feeling the warm brush of Noctis' skin against his surprised him. He stared down at his camera in surprise, a little bit of heat coming to his cheeks. It was a stupid thing to be surprised by; just a touch of the hand. Nothing important. So, despite the heat in his cheeks, he cleared his throat and trucked on.

Or at least he tried to. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Noctis looking similarly flustered, but he couldn't understand why. It was just a touch of the hand, right? An accidental one.

"I... um... I do need to get my glasses fixed soon..." Prompto murmured under his breath, refusing to look Noctis' way as he draped his camera back around his neck.

Noctis didn't answer at first, other than an odd mumble that Prompto thought was supposed to be an 'okay.' He cleared his throat, and after a couple of beats, he spoke in a slightly more confident tone. Slightly. But slightly shaky, still. "It'll be fun. I mean, there's so much to do in Altissia and... and..." He trailed off.

When Noctis stopped speaking, Prompto turned to glance his way, to see him squinting off into the distance. He couldn't still feel awkward, could he? "Noct?"

"There's someone over there. And they're fighting..." Noctis murmured. 

Prompto turned his head the way that Noctis was facing, and he was equal parts surprised and not to see that Noctis was right. A group of elemental bombs ganged up on a single combatant, surrounding them completely. Every once in awhile, a reflection of light glinted from what Prompto could only assume to be a sword. Now that he was looking, he could hear the sounds of combat shouts. The irony was that Prompto was just about to offer to take his father's wrath and just get them the hell out of here before Hour Twenty-Five started. It was funny, in a way that wasn't funny at all, that this chose to happen now. When he turned to look at Noctis, his friend was already on his feet, with his hand on his sword.

"How close are we to Twenty-Five?" Noctis asked.

As Prompto answered, he got to his feet. His watch hand was raised, and his other hand was on his holster, grabbing his pistol. "Five minutes."

With a hiss of concern, Noctis beckoned with one hand for Prompto to follow. "We have to help them. Then guard the crystal for the hour, okay?" It was spoken as a question, but before Prompto could even really answer, Noctis was on his way there. More proof to add to Prompto's arsenal that Noctis was a hero; that he couldn't stand to see people suffer.

Playing a part in that heroism had Prompto running harder, faster. He stumbled over a rock and almost fell, but managed to stay on his feet and keep hold of both of his guns. He hurried a little faster to make up the distance that his stumble put between them, but his step slowed a little bit when he realized exactly who was fighting. That was _R_ , wasn't it? RNF. The contact he was supposed to meet. Prompto recognized the long, extravagant white coat—how it didn't get in R's way and make him stumble was a mystery that Prompto would never understand—and the silver-colored hair. Well, that explained why he was late.

"That's my brother's contact," he explained. "That's-"

But Noctis' voice finished his sentence. "Ravus?" he asked, blinking in amazement and slowing to almost a complete stop. "That's _Ravus_!" Just as quickly as Noctis had stopped, he started running twice as fast. "That's Luna's brother! We have to help him!"

To say that Prompto was surprised that Noctis actually knew someone who knew Prompto's brother was a surprise to the highest degree. The fact that the particular someone in question was Luna's brother—that nice woman, who had been so kind and friendly toward Prompto—was even more of a surprise. R—or, Ravus as he now knew—had never been particularly friendly. He wasn't unkind, or anything, but he wasn't the warm and kind person that Prompto had seen from Luna. He supposed, though, that siblings weren't always the same. He and Loqi weren't similar at all. Though maybe that was the factor of Prompto's adoption coming into play.

It didn't matter, anyway. Nice or not, R—Ravus—needed help.

While Noctis surged forward with his sword, Prompto took a crack-shot and hit the farthest advancing daemon; a fire bomb that was sneaking up behind Ravus. Noctis engaged an ice bomb that was sneaking up on Ravus' left, and Prompto fired another couple of shots at a few distant-but-approaching daemons. Through the combat madness, the loud noises that the daemons made and the clash of metal hitting elemental bombs, and his own gunfire, he heard a hurried exchange between Noctis and Ravus.

"Caelum! What in Astrals' name are you doing here?" Ravus asked, striking forward and knocking a thunder bomb back a short distance.

Noctis huffed off the reproachful greeting, before doing a quick jump back to avoid the ice bomb's forward lunge. "Saving your ass, but I'll take your surprise as gratitude."

Ravus snorted a laugh. "Take it however you want, but I assure you, it was very much not gratitude. I can handle myself just fine." He turned his head, catching sight of Prompto before striking out at the thunder bomb again when it advanced. "Argentum. I should have suspected that you'd throw in with Caelum's lot," he huffed.

That took Prompto by surprise, partway because he wasn't sure if Ravus was serious or joking. Caelum's lot. Hadn't Noctis said that Ravus was Luna's brother? Wasn't a 'lot' usually spoken in a disrespectful tone? Most things sounded like that coming from Ravus' mouth. They always had, every time Prompto had met up with him. Ravus, R, whatever he was called, always looked at Prompto as more of a speck of dust to be brushed aside than an actual human being, so maybe that was just his perception. Noctis' own familiarity was probably more reliable.

Prompto shook his head hard to snap him out of distraction, out of confusion. It proved to be fruitless, however, when the atmosphere shifted, indicating that Hour Twenty-Five had started. The green-shift of his surroundings only confirmed that for him. Hour Twenty-Five had started, and Ravus was still awake. Not a crystal, not something they'd need to protect... he was still completely fine, walking and fighting; not to mention that he was completely unfazed by the shift. Did that mean that _he_ was one of the people who could function, too? Well, obviously that was what it meant. It also explained why he was so okay with meeting up so close to midnight. Maybe not on Prompto's part. But on his own.

Because of that confusion, Prompto only had a split second to register the fact that a nearby ice bomb had exploded, leaving a large area, stopping just before Prompto's feet, coated in a layer of snow and ice. It jumped him to the point that he didn't notice an oncoming fire bomb lunging his way from behind. It struck him in the back, and he felt the heat of the flame coating burning a hole in his shirt, as well as searing the skin on his arm. He hissed in pain as he rolled onto his back on the ground—just in case there were any flames to suffocate—then quickly got to his feet.

"Prompto! Are you-"

Prompto nodded. "I'm fine! I'm... I'm fine! Don't worry about me!" His back burned, and the fire bomb made another quick lunge that he had to dive away from, but he was okay.

Unfortunately, from his position on the ground, he noticed how bad things were getting. The ice bomb's explosion had alerted a few other nearby daemons, not the largest of which was a necromancer that floated ever closer. Prompto scrambled to his feet and aimed at the distant enemy. He fired a shot, and the sound echoed out around them, alerting a couple of daemons that _hadn't_ noticed the skirmish somehow. He winced when a far off arachne screeched, putting his wrists over his ears, in a feeble attempt to drown the sound out. The screech was enough to rattle his bones, and the concern of what came with it was enough to rattle his soul. Sure enough, a cursory glance told him that several _more_ daemons had heard that sound—daemons of all sizes and species—and were closing in from all directions.

"I had rather hoped that it wouldn't come to this," Ravus' voice came from behind Prompto. "But if I must. Alexander! Illuminate the wicked!" he called out.

Prompto turned his head, blinking in amazement when he saw a white-lit sigil—much like Noctis' purple-lit sigil—appear beneath Ravus' feet. The ground shook, making Prompto stumble and fall once more and, seemingly from nowhere, came a giant metallic being from behind Ravus. It looked more statue than anything. So, Ravus had an aeon, too. He could function during Hour Twenty-Five, and he had an aeon. Prompto's eyes found Noctis, where he stared up at the being as it towered over all three of them. It reached out, grabbing the thunder bomb nearest it and picking it up like it was simply a baseball. It threw the bomb out toward the necromancer, where it exploded on impact and blasted the advancing daemon from its feet.

On the other side of Ravus, Noctis blinked dumbly. "Y-you have an aeon, too?" he questioned.

Ravus huffed in annoyance and looked at Noctis. "If you have an aeon, why are you simply standing there like an imbecile and not assisting me in defeating this rabble?" he taunted.

Noctis didn't say anything right away, just blinked in a stupor, before glancing at Prompto and then back over at Ravus' aeon—Alexander, he'd called it. Prompto watched helplessly as Noctis breathed in deep and nodded. "Right. Right. I..." Clearing his throat and turning his eyes to the sky, he once again called out, "Bahamut! Come to me!"

All that Prompto could do was stand off to the side and stare; watch as the ground beneath Noctis' feet lit up in a purple sigil once more. Just like before, the dragon descended from the sky. Prompto watched Noctis flinch when the being soared down from above, ducking as though he thought it was going to dive-bomb him. It didn't. Instead, it flew toward the arachne that drew ever closer and lifted the daemon in its talons. In a flash of purple light, the dragon's claws closed and crushed the daemon into a dark mist. The hulking metal creature crushed another daemon with its giant hand, and after he shook his amazement off, he noticed that Noctis and Ravus were fighting again.

Snapping himself out of his amazement, he turned and fired on a couple of bombs in the distance. He couldn't help but turn back and glance at Noctis again, though. The last time he'd summoned that thing, it had completely taken him out for a whole week. Even now, it looked like he was teetering a little bit under the strain. His motions weren't as fluid as they'd been that first night in Piztala Forest. Every time the dragon made a move, he flinched. Like he was nervous; unsure if it would attack him or not.

Ravus, on the other hand, was confident. Alexander made close calls several times, attacking _around_ them, close to Ravus, shaking the ground with his fists. Never once, though, did it hit him or even brush him. It seemed like Ravus had complete trust in his aeon. It was just a guess, but it seemed like Ravus had more control over his aeon than Noctis did. Maybe he'd had it for longer.

A beat of the dragon's wings kicked grass up from the ground and Prompto raised his arm to protect his glasses from any rocks that might have gotten kicked up. Ravus, too, was shielding his face. But when Prompto looked at Noctis, his instability at summoning the dragon had him staggering, and then falling on his butt on the ground. Prompto watched as he pulled himself to his feet again, though he was a little bit staggered, and tentatively commanded the dragon to attack again. He swung out with his sword, aiming at an imp that had gotten too close, but the small daemon jumped back and taunted him with its hands on either side of its face and a high-pitched shrieking laugh.

Prompto aimed and fired at it, striking it down, before crossing the distance between himself and Noctis to help Noctis stay standing. "Noct... you gotta release the dragon, okay? It's... it's making you-"

"No," Noctis disagreed, his voice breathless. "Can't. Can't let them... get too close."

Turning his head to Ravus, who didn't seem too bothered by Noctis and Prompto at all, or by the fact that the person keeping him from singlehandedly fighting the daemons was teetering on the brink of passing out, Prompto swallowed nervously. "I think Ravus has control of the situation, Noct. You have to-"

It ended up being fruitless, though. Once again, much like the last time Prompto saw the dragon, Noctis' consciousness ebbed away. This time, Prompto supported his friend when it faded, trying as hard as he could to keep Noctis standing. The weight of his friend's body leaning against his, though, sent them both to the ground. While Prompto moved Noctis to lay on his back, trying to wake him up, the dragon flew over to where they stood, beating his wings in place for a moment before disappearing into the green, Hour Twenty-Five sky.

His focus was on Noctis half-a-heartbeat later. Examining Noctis closely, a small wave of relief washed over Prompto when he noticed that Noctis' chest still rose and fell with his breathing. He scooted up to Noctis' face, giving him two gentle taps. "Noct? Noct wake up... you gotta... the daemons are... we gotta run, okay?" He paused, glancing over his shoulder for a second. "Ravus, can you help me?" he asked, before turning his attention back to Noctis.

Ravus approached from behind, Prompto only knew because the darker green of his shadow cast over his back and covered Noctis' unconscious form in darkness. "No," the man's voice entered his ears, from closer than Prompto expected him to be.

Before Prompto had the chance to ask, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head. His vision swam for several seconds, during which he tried to get his mouth to obey his brain and ask Ravus what the hell he was trying to pull. The words never reached his mouth, though, before a second strike hit him, and then everything went black.


	15. Panic

When Noctis awoke, he wasn't sure how long it had been. Hour Twenty-Five had come and gone, yes, but the sun wasn't out yet. His eyes came into focus on the darkness of the early morning Galdin Quay sky. Just hours ago, while they'd waited for who turned out to be Ravus, he'd been marveling at how beautiful that sky was and enjoying it with Prompto. There was no marveling now. No, right now, he was just concerned. As the darkness came into focus, that concern grew about tenfold at the realization that Prompto was nowhere to be seen. No Prompto, no Ravus... nothing but several groups of daemons floating around in his periphery.

His head throbbed pretty steadily, but all in all, he felt a whole lot better than he had the _last_ time he'd summoned Bahamut. Still, he'd passed out. He'd passed out, and now Prompto and Ravus were nowhere to be seen. Scrambling to his feet—which nearly caught the attention of the nearest group of daemons—Noctis took a look at his watch, at the time. Three in the morning. Hour Twenty-Five was, in fact, long gone. Taking another glance around, Noctis realized that it was still too dark to see. He took his phone out and used the flashlight to scan the ground around him for Prompto or Ravus, or any idea where they went.

Three troubling things entered his vision. The first was Prompto's camera. It sat on the ground a few feet away, not broken or anything, just laying there. Noctis may not have known Prompto well, but he figured that he knew enough to know that Prompto would never willingly leave his camera behind anywhere. A few feet from where Noctis leaned down to pick the camera up was Prompto's bag, open with his hoodie, iPod, spare ammo, and first aid kit strewn about on the ground. Noctis collected them and put them back in the bag, each one bringing a fresh wave of concern as he picked it up. He hung the camera around his neck and the bag over his shoulder, and as he let the bag hang loose, that was when he noticed one of Prompto's pistols on the ground a few feet away, toward the road.

Panic started to rise before he could stop it. He barely bit back the urge to call Prompto's name into the darkness, but with the daemons still prowling around, it wasn't a good idea. They'd charge him and he'd be dead in an instant. He tried to suppress his panic as best he could, and reason out what had happened.

His reasoning, however, turned out to be all the more concerning. Wherever Prompto was, he had no first aid, and only one of his usual two weapons. Noctis had a hunch that he hadn't _gone_ to wherever he was on his own. If he had, at the very least, he'd have come back by now to help Noctis. Which meant that wherever he was, it wasn't good. A flash of concern—of dread and worry—flashed into his mind. What if something had happened?

There was another immediate mystery, too. Where had Ravus gone? Ravus, who apparently had an aeon like Noctis. His head still hurt from the exertion of using his aeon, but now it also spun with all of the new information. Noctis, Ravus, and the burgundy haired stranger from Piztala Forest. How had they gotten aeons? Noctis wondered if maybe his own had to do with the burgundy haired stranger somehow. How, he didn't know. What he _did_ know was that now really wasn't the time to think about it. Not with Prompto, and possibly Ravus, hurt somewhere.

Swallowing thickly, he tried to figure out where Prompto could have gone, conceivably, and tried desperately not to panic. Maybe he'd gone back to town to get help? Honestly, that was the only option he could come up with. Maybe both Prompto and Ravus had been injured and neither of them could carry him back, so they'd gone back to town to get help. Still, from the very little he knew about Prompto, he didn't suspect that Prompto would just leave his camera behind. Especially not laying on the ground like it had been. He wouldn't leave his bag open, with all of his stuff strewn around. He wouldn't leave without his second gun.

He fumbled around at his waist where he'd hooked his walkie, then blinked twice when he realized that it wasn't there. He'd definitely left it hooked to his belt. He remembered coordinating channels with Prompto, deciding what frequency they'd use. They'd gone over the settings together, and Prompto had looked so happy to get a simple gift. He'd definitely had it. Patting around his belt to see if it had moved when he fell, then turning to glance at the ground _where_ he'd passed out, he frowned. After spending a couple of minutes looking, he realized that it just... wasn't there.

It wasn't there, Prompto wasn't there, Ravus wasn't there, and now, he was left wondering what the hell had happened when he passed out. 

Noctis decided that he'd go back to town then, to check at the hotel before he really started panicking. Just in case. He only made it two steps, though, before he looked up from where he'd been staring at the ground as he walked in the dark and saw something _incredibly_ out of the ordinary. A crystal, one that looked much like an Hour Twenty-Five crystal, jutted from the ground in front of him. It stood in what had formerly been a flat stretch of land, and for a few seconds, all Noctis could do was blink at it. He'd checked his phone. It wasn't Hour Twenty-Five anymore. Was it? The sight had him darting his wrist up and his eyes to his watch. Sure enough, the display read than it was quarter past three. He hadn't been imagining things, then. He blinked dumbly. That didn't help his confusion at all.

An Hour Twenty-Five crystal at three in the morning. He blinked once, twice, just to ensure that it wasn't his swimming head making him imagine things, but it was very much still there. In fact, when he opened his eyes the second time, he was alarmed to see that the crystal was glowing. The glow was silver-white, and almost reminded him of the wisps inside Crystal Space. Suddenly, he found himself remembering what Gentiana told him the last time he was there. _Next time, Noctis, you will have to come of your own free will,_ she'd said. Was this how he would get there? Everything about this crystal screamed Crystal Space to him, but if that was his ticket back into the mystical space, how did he _use_ it?

Once again, he found himself asking if now was the time. Prompto and Ravus were somewhere, possibly hurt if the state of Prompto's possessions was to be trusted. Was now really the time to go into some other world that both could and couldn't exist in his dreams? He shook his head hard and turned away from the crystal, walking two steps before remembering something else that Gentiana said.

Crystal Space was also outside of time. It was a place of reflection. Was this crystal really trying to lead him there? He took a couple of steps back toward it, looking it over and raking his teeth over his lip. Outside of time. Guidance and reflection. As he edged closer to the crystal, he felt an odd warmth emanating from it, and before he could stop himself, he'd reached out to touch it. 

He barely had a second to register how the touch felt—warm, smooth, and calming—before in a flash of white light, his whole world shifted and he was standing in the middle of the blue expanse again. Not just that, but all of his aches and pains were gone. Another mystery about this place. The wisps—his unanswered questions, if memory served—were running wild, twice as many as there had been before, which made sense. Noctis had a hundred million questions, and wasn't in any position to really get answers. Unless somehow, in some way, Gentiana had them for him. He looked around at the limitless stretch of blue for the familiar kimono-clad woman, and was startled when she appeared right when he'd finished the full turn.

"Gentiana...?" he asked unnecessarily. It was her. Who else could it be?

She smiled a soft and gentle smile. "Hello, Noctis. Welcome back to Crystal Space," she greeted him.

Noctis looked around, raking his teeth over his lip and then glancing back down at Gentiana. "There's a lot more wisps here than there were last time," he pointed out arbitrarily. If anyone knew that, it was probably her. She lived here, after all.

Gentiana simply nodded her head. "Indeed. It is quite difficult to see around them," she pointed out, opening her usually-closed eyes for emphasis. "Is there something troubling you, Noctis? Remember, this is a place for reflection. And perhaps I will have an answer for some of your worries."

At first, all Noctis could really do was laugh softly and humorlessly at that. Nothing was funny. Nothing at all. Was there something troubling him? Where did he even start? All he could really start with was a quiet sigh. Scratching the back of his head, he nodded at her. "Honestly, I don't even know where to start," he murmured.

"I find that the beginning is generally a good place to start," Gentiana replied, her lips curled into the tiniest of grins.

Noctis couldn't help but blink at that. Was that sarcasm? She'd never been sarcastic before. "I guess you're right," he replied, raking his teeth over his lip. Of course, that still left him to determine where the beginning actually was. He glanced at the wisps in the air, and then back to Gentiana. "This place is really outside of time, right?" That was the most important thing. Because if it wasn't... he really didn't have the time to kill.

Gentiana nodded once, smiling a smile that was absolutely understanding and certain. "If you have a timepiece, you can confirm it. The phenomena, at least in this way, is much like the Hour Twenty-Five that you know so well," she explained. "It is far safer, however. No daemons will come, and as long as you are here, the passage of time will not affect you." She shook her head no, for emphasis.

It wasn't that Noctis didn't believe her, it was just the fact that so much about everything that had been happening to him lately was nothing but question marks in his head, and having an answer to one would just make everything easier for the moment. Plus, knowing for sure if he wasn't wasting actual time when he didn't know where Prompto and Ravus were would ease his mind a lot. With those two things in mind, he glanced at his watch and blinked a couple of times in surprise. Neither the normal display, nor the Hour Twenty-Five display, was moving.

He reached into his pocket for his phone to double check, but when it only confirmed what Gentiana told him, all he could do was laugh a soft laugh. Outside of time. So much of his life—one hour every day, and now every time he came to Crystal Space—was spent outside of time. A part of him wondered if there was any adverse effect. Just as the thought entered his mind, another wisp appeared in the air, and he had to laugh a bitter laugh at himself. Too many questions, not enough answers. Scratching a hand through his hair, he looked back up at Gentiana.

"So, you can answer more questions now? It's not like I've formed a contract or anything..."

Gentiana cocked her head to the side. "You have," she explained. "With your aeon. You have summoned it to help you, have you not?" The question was accompanied with a folding of her hands.

To help him. Noctis pressed his lips together and huffed a slow breath outward. "Every time I summon it, it ends up making me pass out. That's what happened before. How I... y'know, got here the time before this one. I lost control of it and I passed out. And it just happened again, and now Prompto—er, my friend, Prompto—and Ravus are gone and I don't know where they went..."

For a few seconds, Gentiana was quiet, appraising. She placed a hand on Noctis' shoulder and flashed him a kind smile. "You do not trust your aeon, do you?" she asked him.

Trust? He looked at her in surprise, raking his teeth over his lip and examining her face for a moment. She was expectant, like she didn't even really need to ask the question. She already knew the answer. It was a little bit frustrating, but also a bit of a relief, because Noctis didn't have to pretend. "Like I said... every time I summon it, I lose all my energy and pass out. The first time, I was out for a week..." he admitted.

The expression on Gentiana's face wasn't judgmental, wasn't annoyed. Noctis wondered how she was so calm, so serene all the time. "Noctis," she started, "an aeon's wishes directly reflect those of its summoner. If you do not trust it, it will not trust you. This makes summoning incredibly taxing on the summoner. It is lending its energy to you, and if you are unwilling to put your energy into it, too, then it will overwhelm you and exhaust you like you have seen. Like what has happened to you."

Noctis blinked. "But how do I trust that it won't... that it's not gonna hurt me, too?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It will not, because if you cease to be, then so will it." Her expression was soft, confident, like she was completely certain of what she was saying. But how could she be? According to her, she'd been in Crystal Space as long as she could remember. How could she possibly know?

"You know a lot about this," he pointed out. "How?"

To that, it looked like she had no immediate answer. She was silent for a few seconds, and for a few more seconds, she stared down at the infinite blue beneath their feet. When she glanced back up at Noctis, she shook her head somberly. "I am not sure," she confessed. "I have no memory of anything before I came to this place, as I have told you." She looked uncomfortable, honestly, with her lack of answers.

That didn't mean that Noctis didn't trust her, though. So far, she'd given him no reason not to. "So, if I trust Bahamut, I won't pass out? I won't run out of energy?" he asked her.

She shook her head no. "I do not believe so."

Well, that was one problem down. There was still a glaringly huge problem facing him, though. "That's good to know. But... that doesn't change the fact that my friend is missing. That two people are missing—" _because of me,_ "—and I have no idea where to even begin to look for them. I was wondering if maybe they went to look for help for me, but I don't think so. Prompto... my friend... he left most of his things behind." He gestured to Prompto's bag and his camera. "I don't think he'd..." No, Noctis _knew_ he wouldn't do that. Especially not his camera. "He wouldn't do that." Now that he was saying it aloud, now that he was thinking it, the smallest bit of panic rose up.

"And the other person? Did they leave anything behind?" she asked.

Noctis shook his head no. "There wasn't even really any sign that he was there at all, actually." That, in and of itself, was alarming.

For a few moments, Gentiana was quiet, and then she looked up at Noctis like she'd come up with a solution. "There is someone on your team that can locate daemons, is there not?" she asked. Seconds later, a surprised expression crossed her face, like she wasn't sure why or how she knew that.

Honestly, neither did Noctis. "Yeah," he answered, surprised. "How did you-"

"I do not know," Gentiana interrupted, which was somewhat alarming. She hadn't done that before. "I just do. I also know that you should not go look for your friend on your own. That you should go back to your friends and have them help you." She looked incredibly flustered, like now _she_ had questions. As Noctis watched her, and as his own questions formed, a new pair of wisps floated into the air.

Gentiana noticed them and frowned. "I am sorry. I am supposed to be offering respite and reflection, not creating more questions," she frowned.

While Noctis wanted to ask more, or at least to reassure her, he was also _beyond_ concerned about Prompto and Ravus—admittedly to a lesser degree—and was even more concerned now that she said that he shouldn't go looking for him alone. That was all Noctis wanted to do right now. To abandon all caution and just run off. But where would he run to? He had no idea where to start looking. To be able to look effectively, he would have to go back to Hammerhead and ask for help. He would have to face everyone; return home without Prompto. That meant that everyone would know that he'd failed again.

A dismal feeling rose from the pit of his stomach as he raised his head to look at Gentiana. "So, I have to ask my friends for help..." he murmured.

Gentiana nodded. "It is the fastest way to help your friend."

That, Noctis knew, was what was most important. Still, facing the others with the knowledge that he'd been responsible for something bad happening to someone again... that was terrifying. What would Gladio say? What would _Aranea_ say? The woman was _fiercely_ protective of Prompto. It was a good thing; Prompto needed someone to be fiercely protective of him. Now, though, Noctis had to go back to her and tell her that Prompto was missing. That he'd failed to protect someone again, and of all the someones it could be, it was Prompto. He gave himself a mental slap. This wasn't the time to be selfish. Right now, he had to worry about getting Prompto back. It was well within Aranea's rights to yell at him, especially since this was all his fault. _Again,_ his mind taunted.

Shaking that off, he looked at Gentiana. "How... how do I get out of here? I have to-"

Gentiana reached into a pocket on her dress and pulled something out in one hand. She took one of Noctis' hands in both of hers and pressed something into his palm. It was warm to the touch; solid and small. It felt like crystal, or a stone of some kind. When she took her hands away, he glanced down into his own and blinked a couple of times. In his hand, he held small crystal that shone the same blue as Crystal Space, and had the same silvery aura of the wisps in the area. He looked back up at her, then back down at the small piece of crystal.

"I use this?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Whenever you wish to make the crystal portal appear," she started, "you take this crystal out and hold it to your chest. And you do the same if you wish to return to your world." Placing a hand on his shoulder, Gentiana smiled a comforting smile. "Hurry now," she told him. "You have much to do."

Blinking a couple of times, Noctis nodded at her. "R-right," he answered, trying to sound confident. Or, at least to mask his nervousness. "Um... thanks."

Gentiana shook her head no. "Do not thank me. It is what I am here for, Noctis," she told him calmly.

There was a question on the tip of his tongue about how she was sure, when she didn't know who she was or how she'd gotten here, but he bit it back by pulling one side of his lip into his mouth. Glancing down at the crystal where he held it in his palm, he breathed a deep breath and pulled it to his chest. Warmth emanated from the stone, permeating his entire body, and he watched as the blue of Crystal Space disappeared in a flash of light. When everything came back into focus, he was in the dark again. He glanced at his watch. Quarter past three. Just like when he'd gone into the crystal.

Before Noctis left, he took a final look around where he'd passed out, making sure he hadn't missed anything that could indicate where Prompto or Ravus had gone. When he came up empty, Noctis felt another wave of worry wash over him. Too much of this didn't add up. Too much wasn't right. With that in his mind, he took to the shadows provided by some nearby trees, and made his way back to town to check out of the hotel and go back to Hammerhead. He only hoped that Aranea and Gladio wouldn't actually kill him.


	16. Dispute

Things had gone as expected. Noctis told everyone everything—barring Cor and Weskham, who hadn't gotten back from a morning shopping trip to Longwythe with Cid yet—that had happened the night before. Only the longtime members of his team, the ones that had been there for years, noticed Luna's surprise when he mentioned Ravus' name. Cindy and Aranea were completely unaware of who Ravus was and his importance to their group. Or, at least, to Luna. He still felt like Aranea was well within her rights to be mad, and he'd fully expected it, too. He'd expected some anger from Cindy, too; for her to yell at him like Aranea was. Instead, Cindy seemed to have keyed into everyone else's demeanor and was looking over the whole scene, trying to get a read on everyone's feelings. She was still worried, and a little bit angry, Noctis could see it on her face. Unlike Aranea, though, she wasn't jumping to the blame game.

"So, you left him with one of his brother's sleazy contacts."

Aranea, on the other hand, was livid. Her voice was a calm, low tone. But that wasn't what was putting the fear of the Astrals into Noctis. It was the look in her eyes. Aranea, in the short time Noctis had known her, seemed like a combination of Ignis and Gladio. She was calm and smart like Ignis, but rile her up, and her temper made Gladio's seem calm. The full force—or what Noctis perceived to _be_ the full force—of that temper was being thrown his way right now, and it was making Noctis nervous. In his mind, he flashed back to the last time he'd fought with Gladio; the night that Weskham and Cor had decided to split their teams up. How Noctis had accidentally pushed Gladio to the breaking point, and how it started a chain reaction that had them all breaking. This was just like that. 

Well, not _just_ like that. Prompto wasn't dead or anything. At least, not that they knew. That didn't matter, though. Aranea was just as mad as Gladio had been. What was worse was that, just like Gladio had a year ago, she had every right to be mad. While she wasn't totally correct; while he hadn't just left Prompto with someone he didn't think he could trust, he'd fainted and now Prompto was missing. Ravus was missing too, though, and for all they knew, he was just as much a victim as Prompto was. Just like with his dad, he'd been unable to do anything, and someone else was paying the price. Possibly two someone elses.

Guilt wracked his mind like someone had poured it in from a bucket. How many people were going to keep paying for his stupid mistakes? How many lives would he ruin? Or _end_?

Aranea's anger didn't stop, though. "Aren't you gonna say anything? Explain why you left someone who thought you were so cool and brave and amazing to possibly _die_ because of some random sleazebag that his brother knows?" she asked, her voice still a low growl as she looked at Noctis like she wanted to strangle him.

Noctis' eyes—as well as everyone else's in his group—went to Luna then, when Aranea called Ravus a sleazebag. She didn't know; she _couldn't_ know. But that didn't change the flash of concern that cropped up for Luna's well-being, with all of the accusations being cast about her brother. Noctis knew that Luna still talked to her brother on rare occasions; that Ravus still loved her, despite him hanging around with some less-than-reputable people. Having Aranea call Ravus a sleaze had to be hard for Luna to hear, but she wasn't saying anything. She was just listening, with her eyes on the sand.

"Nea, let him talk," Cindy spoke from Aranea's side, where she had a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, trying to calm her. "Maybe there's a reason-"

Shaking her head no, though, Aranea looked at Cindy. "Not a good one," she countered. "Anyone who's in with Loqi isn't safe. You know what Loqi thinks of Prompto. _You_ know what Loqi thinks of Prompto." The second time, she was facing Noctis. "And you still thought that one of the dirtbag contacts that Loqi sent Prompto to was safe to just... leave him with. And now Prompto could be dead."

She was right, of course. Noctis could have reminded her about how he woke up with no one around; how he'd picked up Prompto's dropped possessions from the ground. He could have told them about how Gentiana had told him that he'd need help to get Prompto back. That wouldn't change the fact that Prompto was gone _now_. It wouldn't help anyone with anything, and it wouldn't help them figure out where Prompto was. Making excuses and shifting blame wasn't something that Noctis did, so he just stayed quiet and turned his eyes to the ground.

Cindy's eyes were narrowed at Aranea now. "Nea!" she huffed, squeezing her girlfriend's shoulder and shaking her hard.

Through Cindy's attempts to get her to stop, Aranea still glowered at Noctis, staunchly sticking to her guns and staring him down. The worst part was that she wasn't wrong. She wasn't wrong about _any_ of it. Noctis' eyes went to Luna, a silent apology forming in his eyes for even _thinking_ it, but it was true. Ravus wasn't exactly the most trustworthy person in the world, and now he may very well have been behind Prompto's disappearance. That didn't change the fact, though, that he was Luna's brother.

Despite the pained look on her face, Luna walked up beside Noctis and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder in an attempt to support him. "Perhaps Noctis thought he could trust this contact," she pointed out, depicting the exact opposite of what Aranea was. Her eyes were calm, but her voice was sharp and protective. "Perhaps they didn't appear to be a threat."

"Oh, okay," Aranea grumbled incredulously. "So someone who he was meeting for Prompto's brother, who sent him for their _father_ , looked like someone he could trust. Sounds to me like you're _agreeing_ with me that your friend's an idiot, and this whole damn thing is his fault."

Iris, who stood behind Luna with Crowe, looking completely distraught, whispered, "Luna, should we tell them that-"

But Crowe spoke up in Luna's stead. "Not yet, Moogle," she intoned, loud enough for Noctis to hear her, but soft enough that Aranea would probably only hear mumbles. "Not 'til we know she's not gonna come unglued on us. On Noct, but on Luna too, if she finds out."

The next voice to speak out on Noctis' behalf was a shock to every single person in the area. Gladio brushed past Ignis, stopping in front of Aranea and glaring her down. "That's bullshit," he growled. "No one knows what happened, Aranea. Not even Noct. He just told us all that he was out cold, because he was trying to _protect_ Prompto, so it ain't like he just _left_ him there. Not like he just said, 'oh, it's totally fine if I just leave him with this guy that-'" He cut himself off, clamping down hard on his lip and glancing at Luna. When he turned back to Aranea, his voice was calmer again. "It's not his fault."

To say that Noctis was surprised was an understatement. Gladio could barely speak to him, and he could barely speak to Gladio, but somehow, Gladio was willing to stand up for him in a situation that was painfully similar to what had caused their teams to split up just over a year ago. Why? How? The shock—the complete and total amazement that those words were coming from _Gladio's_ mouth, of all people—barely had a chance to register before a pair of footsteps, walking across the desert sand with a purpose, came to a stop right in front of Noctis. When it registered to him who was standing there, dread bubbled in the pit of his stomach. Dread that quickly turned to fury. Of course, it was Loqi. Of _course_ it was Prompto's brother. One second looking at him, and Noctis already wanted to punch the smug expression from his face.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Aranea's voice cut through the silence that his presence brought on. Somehow, she managed to pool even more anger than she'd been throwing at Noctis, and send it toward Loqi.

The smugness on Loqi's face didn't fade as he looked at Noctis expectantly. "Well, much to my surprise, I see Caelum here, but Argentum is nowhere to be seen. I spotted you pulling into town from the grocery store, and much to my surprise-" it was then that Noctis took notice of the theatrically fake tone in his voice- "you were alone. No blond hair-pile at your side."

Anger bubbled. Noctis could feel it reaching an overflow in his chest as he glared at Loqi. His fists were balled at his sides, and the only thing keeping him in place was Luna's hand on his shoulder, and Nyx's arm across his chest. Before, it had mostly been for his own protection, mostly due to the worry of Aranea punching him. Now, the hand was firmer in place, like Nyx was trying to keep him from stomping up and hitting Loqi. It was a good thing, too because that was exactly what he would have done.

Now, Cindy was just as angry as Aranea. "Can't you at least _pretend_ like you're concerned? Your brother's missing, y'know," she spat. Honestly, Noctis hadn't been sure, until then, that her voice could hold that much hatred.

"Yes, yes. That's terrible. Did he at least give you the polymer before he wandered off and got himself lost?" Loqi asked, waving his hand dismissively at Cindy, but otherwise ignoring her and staring at Noctis, expecting an answer. "Or did he manage to screw that up, too?"

Noctis still didn't answer. Sadness had completely morphed now, to a swirling cloud of torrential anger. Anger at himself for passing out and not being able to protect Prompto. Anger at Ravus, because the more Aranea talked, the more he suspected that his involvement in this whole situation was planned and _he_ was the reason that Prompto was missing. Mostly, though, Noctis' anger was directed toward Loqi and Verstael. The two men who had sent Prompto on this stupid job, to begin with. The two men who didn't seem to care at _all_ that he hadn't come back; who were more concerned for their stupid polymer than the fact that Prompto may not even be alive right now. Verstael wasn't in front of him, though. Loqi was. His fingernails dug into his palms, his arms shook. Nyx's arm pressed tighter against his chest, pushing him back a little further, standing before him in a more defensive posture.

Nyx's voice was gentle, warning, when he said, "easy Noct. It's alright."

Behind Loqi, though, Aranea seemed to hold zero qualms with saying exactly what was on her mind. "I'd say if anyone's to blame, it's you," she pointed out, all of the calm out of her voice now as she glared at Loqi. "Sending him out to meet one of your sketchy-ass buddies. Prompto wouldn't just 'wander off.' Not when Noctis was unconscious." She pointed at Noctis.

Loqi's head turned back to Noctis, frustration increasing on his face. Why _he_ was frustrated, Noctis couldn't figure out. "Yes, because it's so out of character for a coward to run away from danger. I've always said that it was only a matter of time before he got himself killed. And look what he's done now. Possibly gotten someone else—someone who just so happens to be ten times the man that he is, for that matter—killed, too."

That was it. It felt, in that second, like something inside of Noctis snapped. The thought of Prompto out there somewhere, possibly hurt, possibly _dead_ , but likely alone, and the fact that all Loqi could do was mock him... it was too much. He shook Luna's hand off and snaked past Nyx's arm in a quick motion, not allowing the larger man a chance to reach out and grab him to pull him back. No one moved to stop him, no one said a word, and before he even realized what he was doing, he'd raised his hand, pulled back, and punched Loqi as hard as he possibly could in the face.

"You have no _idea_ what happened last night!" Noctis shouted, his voice echoing out through Hammerhead and catching the eye of a few people on their way to Takka's diner. "You act like you're so much better than Prompto, when _all he does_ , all he's _ever_ done, is try to make you and your asshole dad proud. To please you, because for some stupid reason, he thinks he owes you _anything_ in the world. He could be hurt. He could be _dead_. And the people who should care the most only care about some stupid polymer. So before you come here and throw around your _bullshit_ to us, you need to realize that everyone here is completely onto you."

With eyes wide and a hand on his cheek, Loqi stood in place, shocked, for several seconds. Prompto had said that Aranea had called him out before, but there was a question in Noctis' mind about whether anyone had punched him before. If no one had, he wondered _how_ they hadn't. Behind Loqi, Aranea was giving a half-approving smile, and while Noctis was almost certain she didn't forgive him—she shouldn't have, at least—she was at least pleased with the fact that he'd made Loqi recoil and shut the hell up.

Noctis still wasn't pleased with anything. Not at all.

Slowly, Loqi's shock wore off, and his expression changed from someone who was cornered to anger. It was similar to Noctis' own shift in demeanor, only there was far more calculation involved. His lips curled into a smirk, though his eyes were still narrowed, and he looked Noctis over. "You know, you're right," he commented, his voice sounding far too oily slick for someone who was merely conceding to a point. "Do you think, when he dies, he'll curse your name? The friend who is so cool and so smart and confident who couldn't protect him?"

"'Course he wouldn't!" Cindy spoke up from behind Loqi. "First of all, he's not gonna die! Second of all, Prompto'd never-"

Loqi shrugged his head to the side. "But what if he does?" he cut Cindy off, then pointed at Noctis. "I bet he'll wish you were in his place."

All of the bluster, all of the bravado that cultivated in his anger deflated like a punctured balloon. The thought of Prompto cursing his name, hating him for not being able to keep Prompto safe when it mattered the most... it hurt Noctis more than he expected it to. It wasn't like he didn't already wish that he was in Prompto's place; that Prompto was safe and _he_ was wherever Prompto was. He had wished it from the moment Prompto went missing. Now, though, he wished it three times as much. Thinking about what happened the last time he'd said that he wished he could take someone's place, though, had him going completely quiet. Back then, Ignis and Luna had both slapped him in the face. Right now, he wasn't sure he'd be able to take it happening again. He saw the triumphant grin on Loqi's face and deflated even further.

In a flash, though, Noctis watched as a fist—a familiar fist, attached to a tattooed arm—flew through the air and connected with Loqi's cheek. Noctis raised his head, blinking in complete shock when he saw Gladio standing over Loqi, his fist still balled, but his other fist gathering the collar of Loqi's shirt and hauling him up from the ground. "Say that shit again and we'll be collecting your teeth to put in a fuckin' jar," he growled through gritted teeth.

Ignis was next to Gladio, a hand coming to rest on top of the one balling Loqi's shirt collar. With a shake of his head, Ignis wordlessly told Gladio to put Loqi down. Gladio did—in an unceremonious shove that ended with Loqi in a heap in the sand—and then Ignis stood in front of Gladio, looking down to the ground at Loqi as he scooched back a couple of feet in the sand. "I suggest," Ignis started, "that you collect yourself and get out of here. I suspect that what you just experienced was merely the beginning of what Gladio wished to do, so if you do not wish to end up in the hospital, please take your leave."

Loqi's smile was gone, replaced with a pained scowl as he touched his hand to his jaw and hissed in pain. "That stupid neanderthal might've broken my cheekbone!" he seethed.

"Yeah well," Aranea seethed from where she stood, "it's been a long time coming, and I'm legitimately disappointed that we can't cut him loose and let him give you what's coming. So, I suggest you take Ignis' advice."

As Loqi picked himself up and dusted himself off with the hand not holding onto his cheek, Noctis felt Luna's hand on one of his shoulders. Iris was at his side, too, jumping up and hugging Noctis as tightly as she could. She muttered for him not to blame himself, that none of this was his fault, all things that he expected someone like Luna or Iris to say. He watched Loqi walk away in a huff, muttering under his breath, and slump into his car, then peel out of the Hammerhead gates at dangerous driving speed. Shortly thereafter his eyes went back to Aranea, who was standing in the same spot, looking at him with a mix of concern and frustration.

Cindy placed a hand on her arm, and Noctis watched as Aranea's attention turned toward her girlfriend. "It ain't his fault, Nea," she insisted. "Nothin' that happened is his fault, and you know it."

For a few seconds, Aranea was quiet and contemplative. Her head turned from Cindy to Noctis, and she sighed. "I know," she admitted. "I know. I know better than to let this shit affect me. And I do know that it's not your fault, Pretty Boy, alright? I know. I just... Prom's dad's been acting real weird lately. Weirder than usual. Prom refuses to acknowledge it, but lately, he's been sending Prom on more and more dangerous missions. Like the one where he met you. Sending him out on stuff that'd keep him out and about during Twenty-Five, even though none of us knew he could even _function_ during Twenty-Five."

"Been tryin' to figure out what his angle is," Cindy added. "Nea and me, I mean, since Prom doesn't see anything suspicious about it. None of the answers we got to are good. We thought that since he was with you, he'd be safe this time."

Noctis blinked, then looked down at the ground. "I'm-"

Shaking her head no, Aranea sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose, almost like she was exasperated with herself. "No. Don't, alright?" she cut him off. "Like Cin and the Big Guy said; like _everyone_ said: it's not your fault. Playing the apology game and the blame game doesn't accomplish anything. We have to quit that and figure out how to help him, instead. I just wanna know one thing."

"Anything," Noctis nodded his head.

Aranea sighed. "Tell us why you're all acting so secretive and suspicious every time we talk about R. Or Ravus. Whatever the hell his name is. Cin and I are kinda on the outside here," she pointed out, her face much softer, and closer to the calm but determined face that he usually saw her wear.

Before Noctis could speak up, Luna spoke for him. The look on her face showed equal parts confidence and sadness, and she pulled in a deep breath and held her head high. "Ravus is my brother," she told Aranea, looking square in the other woman's eye. "My older brother. I've no idea why, or even when, he threw in with Loqi and Verstael, but Ravus is my older brother, which is likely why Noctis thought that he was trustworthy."

"Ravus was on our team, a long time ago," Ignis added, looking up from where he'd been fussing over the hand that Gladio had punched Loqi with. "He rarely saw eye to eye with any of us, even Luna, so one day he just took off without a word."

Luna nodded. "And now I see him very rarely. Evidently not frequently enough to know where his loyalties lie," she added as an afterthought, under her breath.

The expression on Cindy's face was equally surprised and sad. "We had no idea, Lu. I'm sorry," she muttered.

Shaking her head no, Luna sighed. "Like Aranea said, now isn't the time for apologies. This is the time for action, right?" she offered, her face contorting not into a smile, but not the downturned expression it had been before.

Even Aranea looked apologetic, as she nodded alongside Cindy. "Knew you were one of the smart ones," she agreed, smiling a little bit more at Luna. "We just gotta get him back now. So, when Cid, Cor, and Weskham get back, I say we come up with a plan. Unless Luna's people-sense thing works during the day, too." There was a brief flash of hope in her expression then.

It was quickly dashed, though, when Luna shook her head no. "Sadly, it only starts working when the sun goes down." 

"That's alright, Lunafreya," Ignis told her, "it gives us time to appropriate a proper strategy. And it gives Noctis a chance to get some sleep. Sleep that isn't caused by passing out."

As much as Noctis usually liked to sleep, as much as he would have loved to be _able_ to sleep, he didn't see it happening. He was too anxious, honestly. Part of him wanted to say to hell with the consequences, and just run off on his own. Unfortunately, Gentiana's words rang out in his mind; that he'd need his friends for this. As much as he hated to wait, when Prompto might be hurt, or dead, but was _definitely_ in danger... he'd wait until nightfall. But if anything happened to Prompto, if he was hurt at all, Noctis made an internal vow that there would be hell to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon, my dear friend [nicoleiacross](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/pseuds/nicoleiacross) will be sharing a companion piece to go along with this, recapping what happened in the past, around the time that Noct and Gladio fought, and the teams split up! Be on the lookout for that!


	17. Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nicoleiacross](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/profile) has outdone herself again, by writing a companion piece! It's called [Echoes in the Dark](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11412138) and the link is right there! :D I've given her permission to play in this sandbox, too! So, you should give her a subscribe if you wanna see more! ♥
> 
> Another aside: I made a [lore guide](http://heyjealousyyy.tumblr.com/post/162632040715/ongoing-list-of-lore-for-my-persona-fusion-au) to this universe! I'd been meaning to do it for awhile and just... did it today! :D Let me know if you've got any questions!

After the second strike to the back of his head, Prompto was in and out several times over the next... well, honestly, he didn't really have a good timetable. Every time consciousness came back, he had faded memories of many things. A flowing white coat—Ravus' coat, he was pretty sure—in front of his face, and the feeling of hanging like he was being carried. The sky, not green from Hour Twenty-Five, spotted with hazy stars. The third time his consciousness faded in and out, it was almost pitch black. He could see a blurry figure moving around, bending down and setting something down. The figure's coat stuck out in the darkness, a white spot against an otherwise black background.

He tried to stay conscious; tried to call to the figure to help him, but groaned and fell back into unconsciousness before the words could come out.

That was the last thing Prompto remembered, before waking up for real. The first thing he noticed when he awoke was the skull-splitting ache that tore through his head. Waking up with headaches wasn't foreign to him. The sleeping pills he used to take always caused him to wake up with some degree of ache in his head. This, though, was worse. Now that he was awake for more than a few seconds at a time, he had time to actually register it, and it was almost enough for him to wish for consciousness to ebb away again. Before his eyes were even open, he reached to touch the back of his head, and winced when he made contact. He wasn't bleeding, the skin wasn't split or anything, but holy _hell_ did it hurt.

As he winced against the pain, bits and pieces of everything that had happened that night came back to him.  Meeting with Ravus.  The daemons.  Noctis summoning his aeon.  Noctis passing out.  Worry rose up alongside panic, and Prompto found himself wondering if Noctis was somehow around here with him.  Equal parts of him hoped that it was and wasn't true.  He hoped that it was, because if Noctis was here, he wouldn't be here alone, but equally as obvious, he hoped that it wasn't.  If Noctis was here, well… Noctis was _here_.  Prompto wasn't sure where here was, really, but he was sure that it wasn't a place he wanted to be, and it wasn't a place he wanted Noctis to be, either.  All the same, there was only one way to find out for sure.

"N-Noctis?" he called out, his voice too quiet. Even at that volume, though, it was too loud as it echoed from walls he couldn't see and hit his ears again. "Noct?"

If he was here, it stood to reason that Noctis would be here too, right? When he'd crumpled to the ground after Ravus had stricken him—or was that what had happened? There were a lot of daemons in the area. The burns on his back from the fire bomb were a testament to that—he had to have fallen on top of Noctis. He'd been leaning over his friend at the time, after all. Worry sprang up when he thought of Noctis, making the ache in his head throb even more. If Noctis _was_ here, was he awake? Was he okay?

That alone spurred him into action, and he reached to his right, where he always kept his glasses when he slept. As he found himself growing more and more accustomed to the pain that tore through his head, more awareness of the situation seeped into his senses. This wasn't the patch of grassy ground that he'd been on when he passed out. It wasn't even Galdin Quay. It couldn't be. It was too cold; made of hard stone. No, it was too jagged to be stone. As his arm moved across it, fumbling around in the darkness in search of his glasses—which weren't on his right like they always were—he noticed that the stone was jagged; harsh on his arm as he moved it back and forth.

Just as worrisome was the fact that his glasses weren't anywhere to be seen (or felt, rather), for that matter. He did manage to find one of his pistols, but without his glasses, it didn't do him much good, because he couldn't see anything to shoot at it. Still, he picked it up and put it into its holster. Maybe he'd find his glasses later.

Slowly, Prompto moved to pick himself up and get a better look at his surroundings. His arms protested the movement; every single move he made had his head throbbing twice as much as before. He made a soft, whispering whimper as he pushed himself to his hands and knees. Once he got to his knees, he paused to look around. It was then that a sinking feeling of despair set in. He could see enough to realize that he was in some kind of mine. Other than that, though, it was dark and blurry. To be honest, he couldn't tell which one was more debilitating to his vision; the darkness or the blurriness. Either way, he was afraid to move. He couldn't see _anything_. With his luck, he'd fall into a pit.

 _Maybe if I crawl,_ he thought.

As he lowered himself to his hands and knees, a taunt formed in the back of his mind. How pathetic must he have looked? Crawling on the ground like a child, in the dark. He forced that thought away, then tried to get a look around again. Another crawling step, and he felt around for his glasses again. If Noctis was here somewhere... maybe he could help Prompto find his glasses. Blinking against a wave of headache, he pushed himself back up onto his knees. Forcing his voice to be a little louder this time, he called out.

"Noct?" His voice was a normal tone, just conversational, but the echo reverberated in his head and made him slam his eyes shut. Tears sprang to them, but he pushed them back. If Noctis was here, _he_ wouldn't be crying. Pulling in a deep breath, he told himself to be brave, and raised his voice to a shout. "Noctis? Are you here?"

The echo hurt once more, but that _paled_ in comparison to the next thing he heard. From somewhere nearby, he heard the blood-curdling shriek of a chorale of arachne daemons. It echoed from the walls of whatever dark area he was in, and just the sound made Prompto buckle on himself and clutch his aching head in an attempt to drown the sound out. It didn't work. Not even close. He stayed on the ground, hunched over like a madman laughing; only he wasn't laughing at all. His breathing was shaky, his blurry eyes were glassy with tears, and the sound just kept going.

No, it _didn't_ just keep going. It got _closer_. Closer, and closer still, until he could hear the tapping of many-legged footsteps on the rocks beneath him. His head was so sensitive that he could almost count how many steps there were. Almost, but not quite. It ended up being nothing but a mess of painfully echoing clicks that had him cowering in on himself in place as the sounds got closer and _closer_ and he could _almost_ feel the shift in the air as they moved into his space! His heart hammered in his chest as he tried to stay as quiet as he possibly could. He held his breath, held his head despite the pain it caused, and silently pleaded with however many arachne were there to just _go away_.

Prompto found himself wondering how he wasn't dead, when an electric crackle and a hiss, followed by a low and motor-driven hum, sounded out through the area he was in. It jumped him, made him flinch in on himself even further. He stayed there, curled into the tiniest ball he could possibly be, listening to the daemon footsteps as they rushed away screeching in agony, for a few moments. Then, when he lifted his head, a floodgate of relief burst open and washed over him like a wave. Lights. Small, barely-functioning lights, but lights all the same. It didn't improve his vision much. Everything was still a blur of earth-tones and rock, hidden behind the glassy coating of tears that covered his eyes. Now, though, with a little bit of light on his surroundings, he could see that he was right.  He was in a mine. That, though, was about all he could see. The blur of brown and gray made learning anything else about the place an impossibility.

It was enough to encourage him to get back onto his hands and knees and crawl over to a rock, to support him enough to stand. On his feet, his head swam a little bit more and he felt a little bit of pain-related nausea rising in the pit of his stomach, but with the light illuminating the area, he felt energized enough to try to get his bearings; try being the operative term.

He could hear the strain that the lights were under. They probably wouldn't last too long. It begged the question as to how they'd come on, too. Had someone turned them on? Was someone else here? That wasn't the most pressing question on his mind, though. He squinted against the brightness, trying to get a solid look around the room. Or, at least as solid as he possibly could, being mostly blind as he was. On the floor, he spotted a pair of small electronic devices, but they were too far away to identify. He pushed off from where he leaned on the rock, moving toward them and crouching down to pick them up.

Curiosity turned to hope turned to sadness in rapid succession when he realized that they were the walkie-talkies that Noctis had given him. Hope because, for a second, he hadn't realized that both of them were there. When he did, he simply whimpered and hooked them both to his belt. If he ever got out of there, Noctis would want his back. Maybe both of them, since Prompto was proving how weak he was. That way, he could give Prompto's to someone more worthy. The thought had him breathing a shaky breath, sadness covering him like a blanket.

Prompto stood again, moving over toward the wall and deciding to use it to navigate his way out of here. Or at least _somewhere_ , rather than staying in the same place. There were three different ways he could possibly go. A path to his left, one before him, and one behind him. Having no idea where he was, though, he _also_ had no idea which—if any—would take him out of the mine. He wished that he had Noctis with him. Noctis had survival knowledge, and he probably knew how to determine which way to go. Aranea, too. Or Gladio. Or any _one_ of his friends.

Anyone, really. At least that way he wouldn't be alone.

Steeling himself, he pulled in the deepest breath he could possibly pull—ignoring the throbbing that tore through his skull—and went straight ahead. Slow steps. Careful steps. Deliberate steps. The sounds of the mine he was in—distant water droplets hitting the ground, the light rumble of distant thunder outside the mine's walls, the hum of the lights, even the sound of his sneakers as they hit the ground—swirled around, entered his brain, and each new one scared him all the more. He noticed that the thunder was getting closer and closer as he continued along, and every now and then, from somewhere behind him, he heard it shake rocks loose and crash them down to the rock that composed the floor. Honestly, he couldn't tell which was louder. The rocks falling, though... that was scarier.

When a large rock came loose from the ceiling a mere few feet behind him, he was almost positive that the situation couldn't get any more terrifying. He was quickly proven wrong.

Seconds after he thought that, the lights flickered off and on, off and on, off for five solid seconds, and then back on. Prompto tried to cling to the wall, but all that ended up happening was fingers sliding against rock, skin burning and tearing open. He froze completely, the terror that the lights would go back out and he'd find himself in the dark again causing him to look around frantically and try to get a good look at his surroundings, just in case he had to move quickly. In the distance, he saw a small crack in the rocks, leading to something, somewhere, on the other side. He wasn't sure where it led, but he _was_ sure that he could fit into it.

While the light was still on, he decided to move toward it. _One step after the other,_ he told himself, not letting go of his hold on the wall as he desperately tried to will the lights to stay on; desperately tried to will this stupid, childish fear of the dark to disappear. Unfortunately, will wasn't enough in either case. He was still several feet away from the crack in the rocks, inching along when it happened. Once again, the lights flickered, and once again, Prompto completely froze. On, then off, then back on for three seconds, and then off. Prompto slammed his eyes shut and internally begged for them to come back on in a mental chorus of _please, please, please, please..._ but as the seconds ticked on, he came to the realization that they weren't coming back.

And he barely had a second to process that before the situation went from bad to worse. Like a hellish game of red light, green light, the arachne that had retreated when the lights came back on made their presence known again with that same ear-piercing, blood-curdling shriek. Prompto's hand left the wall and desperately covered his ears in a feeble attempt to protect his aching head once again. When the sound started getting closer again, Prompto sucked in a sharp gasp and hurried toward the wall with the crack, feeling around for the hole in the rocks.

Feeling around blindly, he cursed the all-too-short look he'd gotten at the area, and felt a little lower, then lower, and lower still. It wasn't until the sound of the daemon's screech rounded the corner that he found it. He couldn't help the sound of relief that escaped out into the air as he dropped to his knees on the rock beneath his feet and, as quickly as his body would let him, crawled into the tiny passageway. Daemon claws reached in after him, and he moved a little faster to get out of their reach.

When he came out on the other side, he collapsed to the floor in a heap, his body wracked with convulsive sobs.

How had this happened? He had pieced together enough about the past few hours to know that Ravus had something to do with it, but why? No, he'd never gotten the _best_ vibes from Ravus, but he had always thought that the man was one of Loqi's better-natured contacts. That wasn't saying a whole lot, though, when most of the others would sooner have thrown Prompto from the top of a building, but Ravus had always seemed like one of the tamer ones. Disregarding questions about how this had happened, several more questions popped into his mind. For example, where was Noctis? Had Ravus done something to him, too? Or was he still back where he'd passed out, laying on the ground? That thought worried Prompto just as much. Daemons were all over the place back there. What if Noctis died, because he was there alone?

The thought brought a thicker, deeper sob from his throat, and he pulled in a shaky breath to try and steady himself. It didn't work. More tears came, blinding his vision even further. A few more seconds of crying, and it almost sounded like a second voice was crying alongside him. A familiar voice. A _very_ familiar voice. His _own_ voice.

It mocked his tears almost perfectly, but it was laden with a snide and mocking tone that made it sound almost more like laughter than tears. It filled the room, louder than Prompto's own tearful voice, echoing off of stone walls and piercing his ears, making his head ache even more. Just like the daemons before, the sound got closer and closer, and Prompto pulled himself into a seated position, backing further and further away from the sound until his back was pressed against the jagged stone wall. The sound came closer still, and Prompto squinted against the darkness, trying to figure out where it was coming from.

When he got his answer, all he could do was suck in a sharp gasp. His eyes were bleary; tears, darkness, and lack of glasses mixed together to make it almost impossible to see. But when the voice's carrier got closer, Prompto couldn't mistake who was standing in front of him. It was like looking into a mirror, but different. It was him, but not him. It was like a taunt version of him; the him he wished he could be. Cool, confident. Dressed in all black, like the members of Noctis' team, and with carefully coiffed hair and no glasses. The most obvious difference to Prompto, though, even with his blurry vision, was his eyes.

His eyes weren't blue. They were red. Bright, scarlet red, and contorted in a face that looked like it was mocking him. A parody of fear and sadness, which was even more obvious in the way that this Prompto lookalike raised his hands and rubbed underneath his eyes like someone teasing a crying child. The red-eyed Prompto's voice was exaggeratedly emotional, whimpering like he was trying to make it obvious that he was mocking. Prompto went quiet, eyes still bleary and wet, but refusing to make any noises to allow whoever this was to mock him.

"You finished yet? 'Cause I kinda figure you'll wanna start running now."

It registered in an instant, where this whole situation seemed familiar from. Piztala Cove. That daemon who looked like Noctis' friend Pelna. Prompto had only seen him for a moment, before he'd commanded the daemons to attack and sent Prompto into that tree. This version of _Prompto_ had red eyes, just like that version of Pelna had. Did that mean that it was his daemon self? That he _had_ a daemon self? Questions without answers made his head throb, and all he could do was stare blankly up at his red-eyed reflection.

"I said start running," the daemon repeated, looking at Prompto expectantly. When, after a few seconds, he still hadn't responded, the daemon surged forward and stopped right in front of Prompto, punching the wall inches from his head. "Now!" it shouted.

As its voice echoed through the room, it pushed Prompto to the side, into a heap on the floor once more. Why push him aside, though? Why not just... Prompto blinked hard as he scrambled to get to his feet in the darkness. Why was he questioning why the daemon was giving him a chance to escape? A slim chance, composed of running blindly in a daemon filled mine in the darkness, but it was a chance. Kind of. He squinted into the darkness for a path, taking the first one he came to and running down it as quickly as his legs would take him. Twice, he tripped over rocks and he almost fell down a flight of stairs once, but he ran. Daemons flooded the hallway in his wake, alerted by the echoes of his footsteps and his daemon clone's laughter ringing out through the hallway.

Alongside the laughter came taunts. " _This_ is more like it! It's no fun to get the kill without the chase!" the daemon chided, his voice filled with unadulterated glee. "May as well amuse me, right? It's not like you're of any other use!"

That made Prompto's steps stumble, and he almost fell over again. Instead, his next few steps were flailing and messy, but he stayed standing, continued running down labyrinthine hallways to Astrals knew where. Behind him, the daemon still spoke. "Not smart enough to know how to get out of here, not strong enough to fight me on your own. Not brave enough to keep your precious Noct from dying out there at the hands of the daemons. Just... useless Prompto. Nothing to do but run blind down a hallway, not knowing where he's going, but knowing that he's too scared to fight. Aren't you? Too scared to fight?"

Of course he was. He didn't have any idea what was going on, just that he was being chased in the dark by arachne and his daemon self. Of _course_ he was scared. But he kept running. His breath was shallow and his head was throbbing, but he ran. Ran and ran until he came to a dead end. A dead end, with daemons chasing him. With his daemon self chasing him. Panic rose and he looked around frantically, until he spotted a large wooden door to his left, just slightly ajar. With a forceful tug, he pulled it open and slid inside, yanking it closed behind him and pushing the bar down.

He'd hoped that maybe it would lead him to some kind of alternate path. It didn't. The room was empty, and just as dark as the rest of the mine. It was then that Prompto realized that he was probably going to die. On the other side of the door, a loud pounding started. Fists and daemon claws rapped angrily on the wood. It wouldn't hold. It couldn't.

Not smart enough to know how to get out of here. Not strong enough to fight the daemons on his own. Not brave enough to protect Noctis and stop this from happening to begin with. A sob choked him as he leaned back against the wall, sliding down the rock to sit on the floor. He was going to die in here. Alone. Scared. No one would know where he was and he'd never see anyone that he loved again. He cried, his face in his hands, just waiting for the moment that the daemons finally beat the door in and took him out.

But that was when it happened.

 _"Hey!"_ a tiny voice called out in his mind, shaking the already-aching organ to its very core. _"I'm the you that you hide inside! Small but strong, bright enough to light the whole world! I'm your aeon, Carbuncle! Call me! I'll help you light up the dark!"_

His aeon? Prompto was stunned speechless. _He_ had an aeon? One of those cool things that Noctis and Ravus had called to fight for them? How could _he_ have one of those? He was just... useless Prompto. He released his grip on his head and slowly pushed himself to his feet. If he had an aeon, and it would help him get out of here, he wasn't just going to roll over and die. _How did Noctis do this?_ he asked himself. He'd just called out into the night, and the dragon had descended from the sky. Prompto raised his eyes to the ceiling of the cave, wondering how it would work in a place like this. A pound on the door shook the whole room, and Prompto decided to just let it happen.

"Please, Carbuncle! I need your help!"

A sigil appeared under Prompto's feet. It wasn't purple like Noctis', it looked more like Ravus'; white and bright, it lit the darkness in the room, without the help of Carbuncle itself... whatever it was. And then it showed up. Light to brighten the darkness wasn't an overstatement. The light that overtook the room then was nearly blinding. Out of the light came, not a dragon, but instead a tiny creature that looked like it was part fox, part rabbit. It was white, with a ruby adorning its forehead; not menacing looking in the slightest. But before he could question how something that small would help him fight daemons, a surge of energy came over him.

The creature; his aeon, was looking at him expectantly. Like it was waiting for orders. Almost on cue, a daemon claw tore through the door. Prompto watched as the rest of the door flew off its hinges and the daemons started pouring in. Not his daemon self, though. Ordering his aeon to attack and hoping for the best, Prompto was stunned into silence when a bright pillar of light shot from the creature's ruby, ripping through the arachne like they were made of tissue paper. Stunned, he turned back to the small creature and watched as it looked back at him.

For a couple of seconds, Prompto was too dumbfounded to speak, but when another arachne screeched, he shouted, "again!" at the small fox, and watched as another pillar of light shot out.

Again and again, Carbuncle took down daemon after daemon, leaving Prompto in complete and total awe when the light tore through the last of the group. Carbuncle didn't go away like Noctis' dragon. Instead, it stood next to him, radiating a bright aura that lit up the darkness just enough for Prompto to be able to see the general area around him. Like a small, mobile flashlight. For the first time since he'd found himself in this mess, he smiled. He had an aeon, and with its help, he might be able to get out of here.

With a tiny bit of hope in his heart, he beckoned for the tiny creature to walk alongside him, and pressed his hand against the wall to start toward the exit again.


	18. Rescue

Ignis had tried to make him sleep. Luna had tried to make him sleep. No matter what Noctis tried, though, he couldn't sleep. Prompto was out there. No matter how many times anyone told him that it wasn't his fault, he couldn't help but think about what Loqi said. What _Prompto_ had said countless times. Prompto thought he was some kind of hero. Yeah, he'd saved lives. Yeah, those mattered. He wasn't trying to diminish the importance of the people he _had_ saved. But when it counted, when it came down to the people who mattered most to _him_ , he could never manage to pull himself together. His dad and Uncle Clarus had died because of it, and now Prompto was somewhere, possibly dead, because of it.

He hated even thinking it. The people he saved mattered. They counted. People like Dino and Coctura, random people that he saved here and there, they _did_ matter. Just once, though; just _once_ , he wanted to be strong enough, to be brave enough, to save someone he loved. To _keep_ them saved.

That was how his mind taunted him as he lay in bed all day. Ignis, Luna, and Weskham insisted that he stay in his room for the day on the off chance that he managed to get some sleep, but he hadn't. He'd tried. He'd honestly tried. By noon, though, when Ignis dropped by with his lunch, realization dawned on everyone that sleep just wasn't going to come. Ignis and Luna talked with him about the possibility of taking sleeping pills, but Noctis outright refused. When they went looking for Prompto at nightfall, he wanted to be there. He wanted to be there and fully aware and ready to get his friend back from wherever he was.

And hope beyond all sense that he was still alive.

It was five in the evening when Ignis and Luna agreed to let him leave his bedroom, realizing that sleep was just not going to come until they got Prompto back. The sun was just now starting to crest toward the horizon, and Noctis allowed himself the tiniest sigh of relief as he drank an energy drink alongside his dinner. It wouldn't be long now. Ignis and Weskham had tried to soothe him with his favorite rice bowl, and it was working just slightly. His expression was glum as he looked down at the rice, then stabbed at a piece of chicken with his fork and popped it into his mouth. The flavor brought back memories of years ago, when the family was together and happy. His dad and Uncle Clarus, Nyx's team, everyone.

He sighed. No matter what happened, his mind kept going back in that direction tonight. It almost made him lose his appetite, but he needed to be together enough, energized enough, to get Prompto back when night fell. Energized enough to be able to take on whatever came their way.

The first inkling that something was happening outside hit his ear as he was popping the tab on his second energy drink. A couple of shouts hit his ear, and he wondered if maybe it was someone outside shouting to their neighbor or just random yelling in the street. He went back to his meal for a couple more bites, until he realized that one of the voices was very familiar. And it was a voice that he didn't hear yelling very often. Cor's voice echoed through the Hammerhead streets, but the words "he's your _son_ " were the only ones that Noctis could pick up right away.

That was enough to distract him from his half-finished meal and bring him to his feet. Hurrying past the door, where a small group of the others—composed of Ignis, Gladio, and Luna—seemed similarly drawn to the sound of Cor's voice yelling. It made sense. It wasn't something they heard too often. Cor had been a fierce fighter in his day, but even then, Noctis couldn't recall ever having heard the man shout. Not even when his dad and Uncle Clarus had died, and he'd been forced to carry Noctis' injured, bleeding, and miserable self back to the hunting compound they'd lived in over a year ago. Cor never shouted. After an exchanged look between the four standing in the motel's hallway, they all took off for the parking lot, where the shouting was taking place.

When Noctis got there, he immediately understood why Cor was shouting. Verstael stood before him, looking every bit the part of the uncaring father that Noctis thought he might be when news of this situation hit his ears. His arms were crossed, the same scowl on his face as he'd worn the day he met Noctis, and he looked at Cor with disdain; an exasperated look, like Cor was wasting his time.

"I am aware of this, Leonis. What I'm unaware of is what you expect me to do about it. I've no means of finding him. Informing the police will do little good. You and your rowdy band of idiots are the ones who normally handle these situations, are you not? And since it was you who informed me—not to mention," Verstael paused, glancing over at Noctis, "that it was the fault of one of yours that he's gone missing in the first place, it falls on you to find him." This was spoken matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

Noctis flinched. It was true. He knew it was true. Hearing it come from Verstael hurt more than hearing it come from Aranea, though. Maybe because, when it had come from Aranea, Noctis knew that there was concern for Prompto in her tone. She wanted to find Prompto just as much as Noctis did. Verstael, though, didn't seem to care about anything other than placing blame. The worst part of it was that he was right. Noctis couldn't even scream that anyone else was to blame, couldn't do anything as the smug look of victory spread across Verstael's face when he glanced from Noctis to Cor.

Tilting his head in observation, Verstael asked, "now if we're finished here?"

"I'm not done," Cor's voice was a low rumble. His fist was balled at his right side, like he was getting ready for a punch.

Weskham stopped him, though, placing a hand on his balled up fist and shaking his head no, much like Ignis had with Gladio and Loqi earlier. He stepped in front of Cor, his face almost concealing his anger as he looked at Verstael. "Let me begin by getting one thing straight. If anyone is to blame for what has befallen Prompto, it isn't Noctis," he insisted. "Noctis wasn't the one who sent him on this foolhardy mission to meet with a contact, outside of a city, at night, and Noctis _certainly_ wasn't the one who made him feel like he owed the world and had no choice but to comply."

Verstael opened his mouth to interrupt then, but Weskham spoke again. "I'm not finished," he continued, his voice taking on a tone that Noctis only heard when someone did something _really_ stupid. "We will get the lad back. But not for you. For him. And when we _do_ get him back, we will be taking him with us and departing for Lestallum. There will be no more contacting him for dangerous jobs, no more berating him, nothing of the sort, or I will not stop Cor next time. Are we clear?"

This time, Verstael _did_ get a chance to reply. "You will not stop me from contacting my son, Armaugh," he seethed.

"The son that you've made feel worthless?" Noctis wasn't sure what possessed him to interject, but he had. "The son that you gave sleeping pills that he _probably_ didn't need for twenty years, and then took them away and sent him out on a mission that would've put him in the middle of a daemon-filled beach during H-" He paused, catching himself, clearing his throat, and continuing, "during the middle of the night?"

Aranea, who had apparently been there the whole time but escaped Noctis' notice because he was so furiously zeroed in on Verstael, snorted a laugh. "Ain't the first time it's happened, either," she pointed out. "Talking about the same son who spends almost every night at me and Cin's place because he doesn't want to be around you and Tummelt, in fear of what you'll say to him? 'Cause it sounds to me that he'll want to cut contact and stay with people who _do_ care about him."

With a nod, Weskham held a hand up to stop Aranea and Noctis from talking. "I reiterate my point," he spoke calmly, his voice a threatening rumble. "We will rescue the lad. But when we leave here, he will be coming with us, and that is the end of the dangerous jobs you send him on. Are we clear?" His eyes narrowed.

In lieu of an answer, Verstael just huffed—the type of huff that even Noctis would have been embarrassed to give when he was a teenager—turned on his heel, and stormed away. It wasn't a promise, not that he expected one. It wasn't even an _agreement_. At the same time, though, it didn't need to be. If they were bringing Prompto to Lestallum (or if Noctis was correct, _outside_ of Lestallum, where their old hunter home was back when they'd been a team), it would be all the harder for him to do jobs for his dad like that. That gave Noctis hope, that they could give Prompto a better life. The life that he deserved.

If he was alive, anyway.

Noctis didn't feel any better about the possibility that he _wasn't_ alive than he had felt before this confrontation with Verstael. But, at the very least, the confrontation was over. Noctis suspected that this wouldn't be the last they heard from Prompto's dad, honestly. When a man like that had a willing slave—Noctis hated to call Prompto a slave, but that was honestly what the situation felt like to an outsider—that they could so easily take advantage of, they didn't let go. Not this easily.

The sadness, the hopelessness that Noctis was feeling must have been obvious, because he felt a hand—a leather-clad hand that was familiar-feeling and could only belong to one person—clasp his shoulder. When he turned, Ignis was looking at him with a comforting smile on his face. Over Ignis' shoulder, he caught sight of Gladio's expression, and _that_ was surprising. Gladio wasn't scowling. He wasn't even really frowning. There was a frown, kind of, but it was more of a concerned frown than anything. Not anger, not disdain. None of the things that Noctis was used to seeing from his old friend.

"You know," Ignis started, "that he was only throwing blame your way because of the blatant self-blame on your face, yes? Trying to get to you."

Much to his surprise, Gladio spoke up and echoed Ignis' point. "Yeah. Things probably would've been worse if you weren't there." He paused. "With Prompto, I mean." Turning his eyes to the ground, he cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders.

Surprise was an understatement. This was honestly the most that Gladio had spoken to Noctis in more than a year. It wasn't just speaking, either. It was speaking on his _behalf_. _Defending_ him. It made Noctis wish that he could believe it, but he didn't want to discard the gesture, so he pretended and hoped that it was convincing. "I know," he answered, trying to sound genuine. Even he could hear that he fell short.

Ignis looked him over in concern, obviously catching on to his lie. He didn't say anything, didn't call him out for it, merely gave his shoulder another comforting squeeze, before turning to Gladio and giving a halfhearted smile. "Gladio, we should go and make some last minute preparations for tonight. We need to go over our curatives and ensure that we have all that we need," he suggested.

With a nod, Gladio started toward the motel. Much to Noctis' surprise, though, he stopped to give Noctis a gentle pat on the back. His hand landed on the raised mess that was the large and angry scar that the ronin had left on his back the night their fathers died. Noctis knew that a scar on his back wasn't something worthy of concern for anyone on their team. They all had more scars than they could count. Daemons were unforgiving about things like that. For Gladio's hand—on the first friendly gesture that he'd given Noctis in over a year—to land on the scar of the wound that had almost killed Noctis that night; the scar of the wound that no one on the team knew about (even Weskham and Cor weren't aware of how close the daemon's blade had come to killing him that night; that was a secret between Noctis and the doctor at Meldacio)... it was shocking.

As his friends all walked away, back to the motel to prepare for the night's mission, another flash of emotion found its way to Noctis' chest. He'd missed Gladio's friendship for a long time; missed the days when they were brothers, when they'd laugh and joke as they trained. The clap on the back was a step toward reconciliation, he knew it was. Still, it didn't feel like he deserved it. Not when he was still making stupid mistakes that got people hurt.

With an inward breath, he looked up at the darkening sky. He'd earn it. He'd earn Gladio's forgiveness. He'd earn the fact that Prompto saw—or at least used to see—him as a hero. He'd earn it all somehow, no matter what it took. That all started with finding Prompto and bringing him back.

The wait for nightfall was excruciating, even filled with helping Ignis check their stock of curatives, checking his sword to ensure that it was sharp and ready for the night, and finally finishing his dinner. It had long since gone cold, but that was okay. It was food, and it still tasted okay. With a cup of iced coffee in his hand—Ignis made a comment about him surviving solely on caffeine at the moment, and it wasn't exactly a lie—as soon as the sun completely disappeared over the horizon and the first signs of daemons appeared, he turned to Luna expectantly. And so did everyone else.

Noctis didn't know how she dealt with pressure like this, honestly. She did, though. She handled it like it was what she was born to do, standing in front of the map and letting her eyes fall closed. She was quiet for a few seconds, before staggering and bracing her hand on Nyx's arm.

"I sense a strong spike..." she whispered. "Like the one in Piztala. Powerful."

The one in Piztala. Noctis' eyes widened. The spike in Piztala had turned out to be the daemon version of Pelna, hadn't it? It could've been anything, of course. Just because there was a daemon spike, that didn't mean that Prompto was there. He watched Luna expectantly, hopefully, silently begging for her to get some kind of certain, surefire sign.

"All of the other readings I am sensing are weak. Likely just clusters of weaker daemons." She paused, gripping Nyx's arm slightly tighter, pulling in a deep breath and steadying herself once more. "This one is large. Like they've been there awhile. Likely a cave. There's a human presence in the larger group. And... what..." She stopped suddenly, pulling in a sharp breath. "What _is_ that? The energy... the energy is almost like..."

When Luna opened her eyes and looked at Noctis, she blinked in amazement. "The energy is almost like your dragon, Noctis. It's smaller, but it's just as strong. And it's right next to the human presence."

An aeon? There was an aeon, near a human presence, near a really high daemon reading like the one in Piztala. It wasn't a certain reading on Prompto, especially since there was an aeon, and Prompto didn't _have_ an aeon. But it was something. It was a lead.

"Where?" Cindy asked.

Luna looked down at the map, glancing it over and then reaching down to point at Keycatrich Trench. "Here. Keycatrich Trench. If we hurry, we can make it before Hour Twenty-Five begins."

Noctis didn't need to be told twice. He turned to run for the car, but Nyx stopped him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Keys, Noct," he held his hand out. "You're tired, and you're worried, so you'll drive like a damn maniac. I'm driving tonight." His hold on Noctis' shoulder was firm, like he wasn't going to let go until Noctis handed over the keys.

It was for the best, though. Nyx was right. Noctis hadn't slept, and he probably would have had the heaviest lead foot in existence in order to get where they needed to go faster. He nodded once, dipping into his pocket and pulling his keys out. "Long as you promise you're not gonna drive like a grandma. You drive twenty miles an hour and I'm gonna backseat drive my head off." He handed the keys off to Nyx.

"Like you wouldn't do that anyway," Crowe commented. "Think I'm gonna go with Moog this time, if that's alright."

It was surprising, honestly. Crowe always went with Nyx when they had to split into two vehicles, or split up into two teams, or _anything_ like that. That she was comfortable enough right now to go with Iris instead? Well, it probably would have felt good, seeing that, if Noctis didn't have a hundred thousand other worries plaguing his mind right now. As it stood, he just watched as she hugged Nyx around the neck, then bounded over to Iris, who promptly gave her a kiss on the cheek. Seeing Crowe act her age; more like her normal self, bound over to her—friend? Girlfriend? What in the hell _were_ those two at this point?—was pretty cool. Crowe had always been the more mature of the two of them.

Now that Nyx had the keys, he was focused on supporting Luna. Readings seemed to be draining Luna more than usual today, but Noctis seemed to remember hearing that she was incredibly drained after getting the reading in Piztala Beach, too. Was it the daemon-selves, like that daemon Pelna? Or was it aeons? Maybe something else? The way Luna slumped into the passenger's side of the car like she was completely sapped of energy told Noctis that it was worthy of worry. Ignis, Gladio, Crowe, and Iris piled into Ignis' car behind them, and Aranea and Cindy ended up coming along with Luna, Nyx, and Noctis. The car was a little more crowded than usual, and Noctis found himself wondering why they couldn't have gone with Cor and Weskham in their car instead, but that was okay. Noctis couldn't really focus enough to be bothered.

Despite an inability to focus, Noctis was quiet in the backseat of the car, both out of respect for Luna and her exhaustion and worry about Prompto. If he spoke, he worried that he'd try and rush Nyx's driving. Just because he was quiet, though, didn't mean that his brain was. The information that Luna gave spun in his head. A human presence, a high daemon presence, and a presence like his aeon. Did that mean that maybe Ravus was there with him? He'd summoned an aeon. So maybe Ravus was just an innocent victim, too. Maybe he'd been trying to protect Prompto. For Luna's sake, he hoped so.

Aranea and Cindy chatted with Nyx, getting the rundown that Cor and Weskham had given them about Keycatrich Trench. Noctis got the gist. Kind of, anyway. It was an abandoned mine, they dug up X and Y for Z and blah blah, things he couldn't really be bothered to care about when he wasn't sure if Prompto was okay. He probably should have. Even Luna was playing closer attention, and she just looked... drained. He just couldn't focus. He was too worried.

As the entrance to Keycatrich Trench appeared on the horizon, Noctis sat up in his seat, ignoring the protest that Aranea made at being pushed. He squinted against the ever-growing darkness, trying to get a look at the place, as fruitless as he knew it was. The trench was behind a dig site, which was behind an outpost. Too slow. Nyx was driving too slow. His foot tapped on the floor and as the car pulled into a parking spot, Noctis didn't wait for it come to a full stop before he got out. The car was still going at a slow roll, and Noctis stumbled when his feet hit the ground, but he managed to stay standing. Luna and Nyx were both giving him disapproving looks as they got out of the car, and the group of them got their supplies from the trunk. He couldn't help it. He needed to find Prompto. Needed to _save_ Prompto.

Needed to fail him a _little_ bit less.

There were daemons everywhere; this outpost had very few daemon lights, and they were all around the residential area and the tents. Daemons strode around the small outpost like they were supposed to be there, and Noctis found himself torn between frustration and worry. Frustration because these people were forced back into a corner, into hiding, every night by these wandering monsters, and concern because somewhere behind this madness, in a mine that was probably full of _more_ madness, was Prompto. Maybe.

As Noctis reached the mouth of the walled dirt path that led to the dig site that led to the cave, he stopped cold when he spotted, on the ground, a _very_ familiar pair of black-rimmed, cat-eye-framed glasses. He reached down and picked them up, allowing his friends a couple of seconds to catch up to him, but that couple of seconds was just that: a couple of seconds. The crack in the corner of Prompto's right lens, from that night in Piztala Forest, was a perfect representation of the crack in Noctis' resolve to stop himself from running full tilt toward the cave.

He could hear his friends' voices. Gladio, Nyx, and Aranea were the closest. Cor was the loudest. Noctis knew that he should listen. Part of him wanted to listen, too. But he couldn't. He took off, full speed, and as he sprinted along with daemons appearing all around, he shouted into the sky.

"Bahamut! Come to me!"

 _Trust it,_ Noctis told himself, Gentiana's words serving as a reminder. At first, Noctis wasn't even sure if this would work while he was moving. The purple light from the ground grabbed his attention and answered his question. The sigil moved right underneath Noctis, keeping pace with his steps like he was the one creating it. With a screech, the dragon descended from the sky.

Noctis pondered Bahamut for a moment, the beating of its wings kicking dust up around him. The dragon was about ten times faster than his footfalls. If he rode on it, he could get there about ten times faster. His eyes wandered to it for a moment, and as if it read his thoughts, it came to a stop and landed on the ground a few yards in front of Noctis. Slowing his run just slightly, he glanced at Bahamut for a second, then nodded resolutely to himself. Trust. He was supposed to trust it.

Using his momentum to get a running jump, Noctis climbed up onto the dragon's back, forcing himself not to think of how nervous it was making him. He had to trust it, or he would pass out again. If he passed out again, he wouldn't be able to help Prompto. With that in mind, he held on tightly as the dragon took off. His friends' voices faded into sounds of surprise, and then disappeared into the distance. Noctis should have felt bad, and on some level he did. But he needed to get to Prompto. That took away all remaining hesitation as he clung to the dragon's back. With Bahamut's help, he crossed the space between where they were and the entrance to Keycatrich Trench in no time. When the dragon touched down, Noctis jumped off its back and squinted against the darkness, before reaching into his backpack and hooking a shirt-light to the pocket of his over-shirt.

Would the dragon fit into the mine? It would be tight; a close squeeze. The dragon was twice the size of Gladio from head to tail, and half as tall as Noctis from feet to back. The squeeze would be tight. Noctis turned his head to look at the dragon again. "You don't have to do this," he told his aeon, like it could understand him.

The dragon made no noise, instead just inched closer to Noctis. It felt almost like silent communication. Noctis understood it clearly, anyway. Bahamut was telling him that he wasn't going to let Noctis go alone. Gentiana's words rang out in his head again. _An aeon's wishes directly reflect those of its summoner,_ and _if you cease to be, then so will it._ In that instant, Noctis found himself wondering why he hadn't trusted it from the beginning.

"You really do want to protect me..." he murmured, smiling a weak smile. "Well... let's go then."

The dragon took to the air, flying slowly right above Noctis. Each wing beat echoed loudly in the dark cave, but he didn't care; didn't let it frighten him. The only truly frightening thing was when the daemons started coming out. Arachne, imps, and goblins. It was hard for Bahamut to move in the cave, Noctis could tell, but the large dragon still tried. While Noctis engaged the smaller daemons, Bahamut tore an arachne apart, and then Noctis watched, amazed, as a mist of purple came from the dragon's mouth. Almost like a normal dragon's fire. It looked almost like a dark mist.

They continued through the twisting and turning mine like that, searching through empty halls and fighting angry daemons the whole time, and Noctis only stopped when they came to a wide open room that looked like a dead end. He'd passed a few turns awhile ago, so he'd just have to turn back.

"Looks like a dead end," Noctis said to the dragon. It hadn't answered him yet, but it was hard to feel _really_ alone with it there.

Much to his surprise, though, a voice answered him this time. A familiar voice called out, "well no _shit_ , Ace," into the darkness.

The voice was familiar. It sounded like the only voice he really wanted to hear right now, honestly. The tone, though; the sarcasm and the disdain with which he spoke to Noctis? That was foreign. He couldn't imagine the _real_ Prompto talking like that; sounding so angry. Loqi's words sprang to mind. _Do you think, when he dies, he'll curse your name?_ It was deserved. Of course it was. But deep in his heart, he'd hoped... It didn't matter what he'd hoped. The fact of the matter was that he owed Prompto an apology. An apology that he was almost positive that his friend wouldn't accept.

"Prom, listen, I..." he murmured as he turned around.

Noctis turned around to face Prompto, to beg for forgiveness, and was stunned completely speechless at what he saw. This... didn't look like Prompto. Well, it did but it didn't. He had the same body; thin and small. He was dressed in black, though. A black vest over a white shirt, black pants, and black boots. His hair was styled differently. Carefully-coiffed. He had a smirk that Noctis had _never_ seen on Prompto's face before. And his _eyes_...

Red. Red eyes. This wasn't Prompto. This was... "Prompto's daemon self."

"Bingo. Took you long enough."

Noctis looked at Bahamut, blinking a couple of times and wondering why it wasn't attacking. The truth of the matter was, though, that he already knew. If the aeon's wishes directly reflected the wishes of its summoner... it made perfect sense. Noctis didn't want to attack anything with Prompto's face, however twisted that face was. He swallowed thickly and looked back at Prompto's daemon self, his hand finding his sword at his hip and expanding it.

"Where's Prompto?" he commanded.

The daemon laughed. "Probably off somewhere crying in a corner. Or dead. Hell if I know, I'm not his keeper."

Noctis shook his head no. "He's not dead. Shut up," he seethed.

Red eyes raised to look at Bahamut. "Right. Because he could totally survive in a daemon-filled cave without one of those," he snarked, pointing up at Bahamut. "When I found him a little while ago, he was crying on the floor like a little baby. Wishing for his _favorite hero_ to come and save him. Where were you then, hm? When he needed you?"

Against his volition, Noctis' eyes fell to the ground. "I wasn't... I couldn't..." he stammered.

"Maybe I should make you beg, too. Like he did," the daemon chuckled. "Should be easy. Not like you'll attack me anyway, right? I look too much like him."

As much as Noctis wanted to argue, he couldn't. He couldn't attack this daemon. It looked like it could be Prompto's twin. It walked forward, Noctis backed up. It took another step, Noctis took another step backward. Bahamut disappeared alongside Noctis' will to fight, and he continued backing up, until his back hit the wall and he was holding his sword up to defend himself. The daemon reached beyond it, though, clasping its hand tightly around Noctis' throat and lifting him off the ground effortlessly. Noctis gasped, kicking out helplessly and trying to loosen the daemon's grip. Air drained, replaced with a painful and burning emptiness, and Noctis tried as hard as he could to fight back.

Blackness entered the corner of his vision, threatening to drag him back into unconsciousness, but that was when he heard it.

"No!" Another voice—another _Prompto_ voice—hit his ears. "Stop!"

White light pushed through the darkness overtaking his eyes; light that came from the same direction as the voice, and before Noctis could even register what was happening, the hand released his throat, and he crumpled to the floor in a heap. He coughed, gasping for air and lifting his head to see the source of the light. There, standing in the middle of the open room of the cave, was Prompto—the _real_ Prompto—with a tiny glowing fox at his side. Was that an aeon? Prompto had an aeon!

Noctis was trying to gather his voice enough to talk to his friend, when Prompto ordered the tiny fox to attack, and light streamed from the creature to hit Prompto's daemon self. A few seconds of solid attack, and the daemon version of Prompto disappeared, just as Pelna's daemon self had before. Prompto was at his side in an instant, down on his knees and wrapping his arms around Noctis' shoulders.

"You came," he whispered into Noctis' ear.

Noctis laughed a choked sound, both because he was actually just choked and because he was just so relieved to see Prompto. He wrapped his arms loosely around Prompto's shoulders. "We all did. You doubted it for a second?" His voice was raspy, but relieved.

Prompto's laugh was shaky, tearful, and he shook his head no against Noctis' shoulder. "I just..."

"I know," Noctis answered. "Me too."

He had questions. More questions than he could properly organize to ask, about what had happened, whether Prompto was okay, about Prompto's aeon. But right now, there was one important thing to do. First, he had to hand Prompto his glasses. He took them from his bag and passed them over to his friend, who hurriedly put them on his face and blinked hard against the sudden change in his vision. The second, and more important of the two, he vocalized aloud.

"Let's get you home."


	19. Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The awesome [nicoleiacross](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/profile) has posted a [Different Side](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11433297) of this tale, more specifically Ravus and Loqi's POV! ♥ You should check it out! It's awesome!

Prompto passed out as soon as they got out of the cave. He remembered seeing the rest of the team fighting daemons near the entrance to the mine, hearing them marveling at his aeon and the light that it brought to the area, watching as it did some sort of weird super move and purged their immediate area of daemons. That, though, took all of Prompto's remaining energy, and he collapsed from exhaustion, falling against Noctis. The very last thing he remembered feeling was an incredible sense of safety when Noctis' arms wrapped around him. A relative stranger—someone Prompto had only known for a few days—made him feel so safe that he just allowed exhaustion to take over and drifted into sleep.

_His dreams weren't as kind to him as Noctis was, though. As soon as they started, his subconscious mind took him back to Keycatrich Trench. Back to walking around in the dark, blind. Back to holding the wall, only this time he had no aeon at his side. He fumbled around blindly, trying to figure out exactly where he was going, turning corner after corner, to dead end after dead end. Panic bubbled up when he realized that he'd been going in circles. Every path he took led back to the same place. The same _dark_ place. All he could do was keep going._

_Going and going and getting nowhere. The halls of the mine changed every time he got back to that same central spot, but he tried again and again, hoping for some sort of change. Eventually, a change_ did _come, in the form of a pair of new voices echoing out in the hallway. Well, no. Not new voices. Not new voices at all, actually. Noctis' voice, calling for help. Pleading. Then gasping out a sharp breath. Struggling. Grunting. Prompto's own voice, laughing. Shrieking with glee. Prompto let go of the wall and continued down the maze-like hall of the mine, into that same center room. Noctis' gasps and struggling got weaker. The laughter got louder._

 _Prompto rounded the corner into a_ new _room this time, just in time to see his daemon self, with its hand clasped tightly around Noctis' throat. It gripped tighter and tighter, and then..._

_SNAP!_

Prompto startled into a seated position, waking up just as his daemon self snapped Noctis' neck like a twig. His eyes darted around the room he was in—a room at the Hammerhead motel, it appeared—and he gasped for air. His hands held fistfuls of sheets as he got his bearings, taking in everything in the room to ensure that he wasn't still dreaming. That he was actually awake. He was.

Not only was he awake, but he was wrapped in band-aids and bandages in a few different places. Three of his fingertips were covered in simple band-aids from when he'd scraped the wall trying to hold it. He had bandages wrapped around his back from the fire bomb's burns, and his knee was wrapped tightly in ace bandages. Honestly, Prompto didn't even remember hurting his knee, but he assumed that it happened one of the times that he'd had to kneel down, or from crawling around on the hard and jagged rocks for too long. Either way, someone had taken care of him and he had to thank them for it.

Sun crept in around the edges of the windows, brightening the otherwise dark room and allowing Prompto the slightest bit of vision, even without his glasses. He looked at the bedside table, spotting them and grabbing them to put back on his face. Now that he could actually see, he noticed that it was Noctis' room. It seemed like forever ago, when he'd come in here and saw Noctis drawing. In reality, though, it had only been a couple of days. _A couple of_ really long _days,_ he thought with a breath of laughter as he continued to glance around the room.

Much to his surprise, he wasn't alone. A few feet to his right, wrapped up in blankets on the shag carpet, was Noctis. The blanket was pulled all the way up to his ears, and he was curled into a loose fetal position. Prompto couldn't help but laugh a little bit. He could only really see the top of Noctis' head, but damned if it wasn't adorable.

Glancing at the clock, Prompto determined that it was about three in the afternoon. Most of the night and the entire morning, he'd slept. It made sense. Waking up to his aeon, though not exhausting in the way that Noctis had felt, was exhausting in its own right. That wasn't even to mention the emotional exhaustion that went with the night he'd had. Prompto pulled in a deep breath, then pushed it out slowly, before leaning back in bed. He wasn't in any rush to get up, honestly. As he relaxed, his eyes turned back to where Noctis slept on the floor. He hadn't needed to do that. Prompto would have willingly slept on the floor, if he'd been aware. Or back at home. Back at his dad's place.

That thought made his stomach drop. His dad. Prompto hadn't gotten the polymer. Not that he'd even really had a chance. Ravus hadn't even offered it. And... had knocked him out. Prompto frowned as pieces of the night prior flooded through his memory. Ravus knocking him out, vague memories of Ravus dragging him through the mine. Shaking his head hard—his headache was at half the strength it had been the night prior, so it still sent a shock of pain through him—he swallowed thickly. It didn't matter what Ravus had done and how he'd done it. The fact was, to his dad, all that would matter was the fact that he didn't get the polymer. His dad would be furious. That, he decided, was almost as scary as the dream.

It wasn't like his father was physically abusive or anything, but that didn't mean that the things he said or did weren't hurtful. When Prompto didn't manage to fit into his cookie cutter, when Prompto didn't 'succeed' like Loqi did, he was always made to feel like a failure. He swallowed thickly. After the night he'd had last night, he really didn't know if he could take that right now. So, he decided, he wouldn't go back yet. Really, he had no reason to. Besides, he had to thank Noctis and the others for coming all the way out to wherever-he'd-been to save him. He'd wait. Wait for Noctis to wake up, and wait for everyone else to arrive.

With that resolved, he took a glance around the room. His bag and his camera were set in the bed next to him, almost as though they'd been gift-wrapped on anticipation for him waking up. Prompto's eyes went to the camera, and he reached out to take it and bring it to his lap. After ensuring that it turned on and was in one piece, he turned to look at Noctis.

Part of him wondered what he'd done to deserve an awesome friend. Okay, no. All of him. All he'd done so far was put Noctis in danger. With a quiet sigh—one that he was careful to keep internal, so not to wake Noctis up—he looked in his messenger bag. Everything was there. His hoodie, his iPod, his phone... and the walkie talkie that Noctis had given him. Prompto blinked. Admittedly, he didn't expect to see that. He'd fully expected Noctis to have taken it back; that this was the end of their partnership. But a glance around the room showed that the other one sat on the table across the room, closer to Noctis than to Prompto. Did he dare to hope that it meant what he thought it meant?

It made sense, he guessed. They both had aeons now. They were both the best equipped of everyone to on the team to fight. A crazy thought, that, and one that had Prompto laughing a soft note to himself. _Prompto_. Better equipped to fight than Aranea or Gladio or Ignis or anyone else in the group. It was hilarious.

While Prompto was sure that he should probably have gone out and told the others that he was awake and okay, a part of him wanted to wait. A part of him wanted to be there when Noctis woke up to thank him for coming to rescue him. That was the part that ended up winning out, and he opted to fill the wait by going through the pictures on his camera. Disappointment edged in when the photos of Galdin Quay started popping up. While they were there, the trip had been amazing. Eating dinner together, enjoying the beach, just sitting in their room and talking... it was a shame that they'd never gotten to finish it.

Maybe someday, if he worked up the nerve, he could ask Noctis to go back there.

The very moment he thought his friend's name, Noctis grunted and stretched under the blanket on the floor. The sound was as dramatic as the motion; Noctis went from just the top of his head peeking out from underneath the fleece blanket to his arms, his whole head, and the bottoms of his feet. Prompto was unable to stifle a laugh.

"Morning. Or, afternoon. Whatever," Prompto muttered, watching as Noctis' head turned to look at him. Once again, he was unable to stop a laugh from escaping. Leave it to Noctis to have perfect bedhead.

Truthfully, it wasn't perfect in the slightest. Dark hair stuck up in all different directions, making him look more mad scientist than tough daemon hunter. His sleepy eyes combined with the mess of hair to make the most perfectly imperfect image, and Prompto wished that he was a little bit braver. If he was, he'd have just raised his camera to snap a picture. As it stood, he just stared. How was it possible for Noctis to be so gorgeous, even before he'd put any effort into it?

Noctis smirked, but it was clear that he had no idea why he was smiling when he asked, "what's so funny?"

Shrugging, Prompto answered, "just wondering when you became a mad scientist, is all." When Noctis merely looked at him, confused, Prompto pointed to his own hair and gestured broadly at it.

Sitting up and darting a hand up to run through his hair, Noctis laughed. "Oh. Guess it's par for the course with hair products," he muttered. "But now you can confidently say that you've seen me when I look like something the cat dragged in."

"Nah. It looks cute," Prompto answered without thinking. Brain caught up with mouth, and Prompto immediately felt the heat making its way to his cheeks as he blinked in a fluttering motion. "Ah... uh... I mean... fine! Fine. It looks f-fine. I, um..." He cleared his throat. There was the stammer again. He'd been right the first time, of course. Noctis looked cute. Adorable. But he didn't want to hear that from _Prompto_ of all people. That he said it aloud... how could he have said it aloud?

When Noctis replied, his voice was quiet. Just barely above a whisper. "Thanks," he murmured.

If humiliation was capable of killing someone, Prompto was reasonably sure that he'd have been dead, embalmed, buried, then come back as a zombie just to die from embarrassment again. He couldn't see his own face, of course, but he was reasonably certain that he was inventing new shades of red just to classify them. _Especially_ when he glanced back over at Noctis and, with the blanket dropped, could clearly see that Noctis was sleeping without a shirt on. It shouldn't have been a big deal. Lots of people slept without shirts on. It was like a trip to the beach, or something. It wasn't, actually. It _really_ wasn't. They were in the privacy of a motel room, both waking up... and Noctis was perfect.

Honestly, Prompto should have probably turned to look away, but he couldn't bring himself too. Noctis' skin was pale, and the spots that Prompto could see were marred with aged, faded scars, probably from hunts and long-fought battles against daemons that he'd been fighting since he was thirteen-years-old. Right now, Prompto could only see his arm and a bit of his chest as he was half-turned to face Prompto from their conversation.

It was still perfect.

The flush on his cheeks grew deeper as he turned and looked away. It was humiliating, honestly. Seeing someone with their shirt off should _not_ have been enough to fluster Prompto as much as it was. He heard movement from the floor, Noctis was shuffling, standing, then walking across the room. Prompto kept his eyes on the blanket, secretly wishing that his glasses were still missing in that moment so that he could look at Noctis without blushing like an idiot. It was stupid. It was so stupid. He could almost hear Aranea fondly laughing at him, Cindy giving her that look that she always gave whenever she wanted to laugh with Aranea, but also felt sympathy for Prompto's shyness and anxiety at the same time.

"So," Noctis' voice came from the other side of the room, where he was rooting through a bag. "I, um... I owe you an apology."

Desperate to push past the boundary that his anxiety had created, Prompto dared himself to look up again, to see Noctis facing him again. He'd procured a comb, and was pushing the mad scientist mess back into its normal, shaggy, over-the-eyes half-mess. The full view of his friend's chest wasn't doing his awkwardness any favors, honestly, but he tried as hard as he could to push past any lingering feelings of embarrassment and force his brain to let words get to his mouth.

Apology. Noctis had said something about owing him an apology. "Why?" Prompto spoke, and wanted to shove the words back into his mouth when they came out as more of a clumsy croak than any sort of normal conversation. _Well great. That doesn't make me want to jump off a building or anything,_ he thought. In a desperate, futile attempt to pull himself together, he continued. "Um... wh-why do _you_ have to apologize, I mean? If anyone should have to-"

Noctis shook his head no. "Don't," he insisted, the tone in his voice finally managing to pull Prompto's attention from staring at his bare skin. "You... it isn't your fault, Prom." When Prompto's eyes went to his face, the sadness, the complete desolation there was flooring. It looked like he'd been living with it for far too long, and it made Prompto want to do _anything_ to take it away. "I was supposed to... I wanted to keep you safe. I wanted to make sure that nothing happened to you. That you didn't... that you weren't hurt because of me." He laughed a self-deprecating laugh. "Screwed that one up royally," he murmured as he stared down at his makeshift floor bed.

"I dunno," Prompto countered. "I'm okay, right? Unless this is all some kind of really realistic coma dream or something."

For a couple of seconds, Noctis was silent. He still stared at the floor, shrugging his shoulders miserably. "You almost weren't," he pointed out.

Prompto shrugged, throwing the blankets from his legs and setting his camera on the bedside table. "I mean, sure. It was... it was really, really bad." He stopped, staring down at his knees before he got up from the bed. The ace bandage made one larger than the other beneath his pants. "I thought I was gonna die more than once. But I didn't. And even if I had, it wouldn't have been your fault." With a little bit more effort than usual, he stood from the bed. His knee protested, but despite a hiss of pain, he didn't let it keep him sitting down.

"But I was the one who wanted to go and-"

Heaving a sigh, Prompto shook his head no. "Yeah, you wanted to go and help Ravus, but... he's your friend. Of course you'd wanna go help him," he pointed out.

Noctis huffed a bitter laugh. "Friend's a bit of a stretch..." he muttered. "He's Luna's brother. I'm pretty sure he doesn't like me much. Any of us, probably. Other than Luna." He paused, shook his head hard, and glanced back at Prompto. "It... it doesn't matter. What happened to you?" Noctis asked. "I mean... was Ravus with you, or-"

How did he even answer that question? Prompto turned his eyes down to the floor. Ravus had been with him for long enough to drop him off in the cave. To leave him behind to die at the hands of the daemons. How was he supposed to tell Noctis that his friend's brother had tried done something like that? Would Noctis even believe him? He swallowed nervously and raised his shoulders in a shrug.

"My memory is patchy," he admitted. "But I remember seeing Ravus' coat a lot when I was in and out. And then I woke up and... and I was alone. I couldn't see, and there were daemons, and..." And he was terrified. He didn't want to say it; didn't want Noctis to hear about his weakness.

When Prompto trailed off, he noticed that Noctis' eyes were on the ground, sadness etched into his features. "I'm... I'm sorry," he told Prompto, refusing to meet his eye. "That even with my aeon, I couldn't protect you. That I thought it was okay to trust Ravus, and that you almost..." He shook his head hard, finally peering up to look at Prompto. "I'm sorry."

There was more to this than a just guilt over what had happened the night before, Prompto could tell. There was a whole story hiding behind Noctis' eyes; so much that he kept to himself. As he peered up at Prompto through a freshly-combed curtain of dark hair, Prompto really wished that he was bolder; bold enough to ask. The fact of the matter was, though, that they were still relatively new friends; that Noctis was well within his rights to keep whatever he wanted from Prompto. Another fact, though, was that nothing that had happened the night before was Noctis' fault.

"Don't blame yourself, Noct. Please. Seriously, you didn't do anything wrong. You were the one that saved me, right?"

Noctis shook his head no. "Actually, you saved yourself. You and your aeon saved yourself _and_ me," he reminded Prompto. From this angle, Prompto could clearly see the bruised outline of a handprint on Noctis' neck. His daemon self had done that. He had almost forgotten about that. "That... that daemon version of you would have killed me if you hadn't shown up when you did."

With a half-felt smile, Prompto shrugged. "And I would've given up even _with_ my aeon if you hadn't shown up," he insisted. "So, looks like we saved each other." He smiled a genuine smile. Noctis hadn't told him that their partnership, their plans to hunt together and travel together were canceled; hadn't pointed out his weakness. He really was awesome.

"Guess so," Noctis replied, smiling a weak smile.

Prompto smirked. "Don't need to guess," he teased, throwing Noctis' words from the night before last back at him.

The expression on Noctis' face—a morph between surprise and then amusement, and then a sly little smirk—made Prompto's heart flutter a bit in his chest. "I guess not," Noctis replied, stealing Prompto's joke.

Once again, Prompto felt his cheeks heating up, and he turned away and cleared his throat, walking over to his messenger bag and digging through it for his glasses cleaning wipes. "I think the number one thing that makes you a hero is that you brought me back my glasses, honestly," he half-joked. "The worst part about last night was not being able to see anything."

Noctis was frowning. Prompto could tell, even with his glasses off as he wiped them clean. "I wish you wouldn't call me a hero. I'm..."

"Someone who saves lives. You've saved me enough times. The first night we met. When you brought your team to Hammerhead and called your aeon the first time. You're a hero, Noct. You're..." Amazing. Wonderful. Brave. Sexy as hell. Nice. Cool. Any of those things would have worked. The connectors that brought Prompto's words from his brain to his mouth failed him, though, and instead he said, "you're a hero to me."

With a sad smile, Noctis turned around to go through his bag again. "Maybe I'll believe you someday," he murmured.

Prompto was about to turn away. To respond. To do _something_. He really was. But when Noctis turned his back to go through his bag and Prompto caught sight of his back, all words and thoughts completely drained from his brain. All over, Noctis had tiny marks and scars. Some were fresher than others. The daemon bites on his shoulder, clearly visible on the fringes of Prompto's vision, came to mind. Those looked like nothing compared to what Prompto was seeing now. A long scar, raised and angry, spread across Noctis' back from his right shoulder blade to his left hip. A million questions formed in Prompto's mind, but before he had a chance to say anything, Noctis turned around and flashed him a smile that was far more honest than anything he'd given since the last conversation started.

"So, I think Wesk and Cor want you to move to Lestallum with us," Noctis pointed out, nonchalance in his expression, like he wasn't aware of the scar or the thousand questions that were whirling around in Prompto's mind because of it. He couldn't be though, right? He had to know the scar was there, and he had to know that Prompto had seen it. "If you want, I mean."

Blinking, Prompto snapped his head to look at Noctis, who had gathered a shirt, pants, boxer shorts, and a towel from his bag. The question was a distraction, kind of. Lestallum. He'd been there before with Cindy and Aranea, but it was only for brief moments. "Huh? Lestallum? I... I have to ask my dad-"

Noctis shook his head no. "Actually," he chuckled softly, calmly. "They got into this epic fight with your dad yesterday. Cor looked like he was gonna start throwing punches, and then Wesk was like... 'he's coming with us.' All serious and not letting your dad argue. I'm pretty sure he meant if you want to, but he told your dad that you could come with us, since you're a part of the team..." 

To that, Prompto's eyes widened in fear. Worry about his dad managed to push all of the questions about Noctis' scar into the back of Prompto's mind. Weskham and Cor had fought with his dad, and had told him that they were taking Prompto to Lestallum? It wasn't even up for debate, where his desires were here. Prompto wanted to go to Lestallum with his friends, only partially since he was pretty sure that Aranea and Cindy would only go if he went, and he didn't want to hold them back. His father, though, wouldn't be happy about it. If Prompto was moving, maybe he shouldn't have cared, but he still had to go back to get his things. He still had to face his dad for long enough to pack his bags.

The whole time Prompto's mind swirled in a horrified tornado, Noctis had been recalling aloud, the fight between Cor, Weskham, and Prompto's dad. Seeming to notice Prompto's silence, Noctis paused, then trailed off when he caught sight of the expression on Prompto's face. "I-if you want, like I said. If you'd rather-"

"I... no! No, I'd... I want to go..." Prompto stammered. "I want to come. I just... I have to get my clothes and stuff, which means that I have to go back there, and... I don't..." He didn't want to know what his dad would say.

Noctis draped his clothes over his arm, then shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Prom," he smiled, meeting Prompto's eyes. "I'll go with you. And we can bring Wesk and Cor, too. If they're there, your dad won't get a chance to say anything, you know? And then you're free." He smiled wide. "You don't have to do what your dad and Loqi tell you anymore. And you can-"

Prompto couldn't help it. The thought of not having to go back to his dad's apartment again, of being able to see the world with new and old friends, had him jumping up and throwing his arms over Noctis' shoulders in a hug. He clung to Noctis' upper body, his happiness pushing the intimacy of the hug from his mind. He felt his friend's arms wrap around him, too, and he allowed himself a soft smile against Noctis' skin.

That was when it occurred to him, though. He was smiling against Noctis' _skin_. His bare flesh. Swallowing nervously, he lifted his head... which may have been a mistake. This new position put his face right in front of Noctis' face, only a stark few inches separating them. He could see Noctis' eyes in the still-darkened room, sapphire blue and staring right back into his own. Prompto's heart hammered in his chest, even faster when he saw Noctis flick his eyes down to glance at Prompto's lips for a couple of seconds.

Did that mean what he hoped it meant?

Prompto had never been kissed before. Honestly, he'd never really even come close. The only experience he had with things like this were secondhand stories, or things that he'd seen in movies and on TV. Moments like this only happened there, he'd always thought; moments where someone looked from eyes, lips, then back to eyes, then started searching. Well, if Noctis was searching for permission, he didn't even need to ask. Permission was there, and then some. More like a desperate, urgent plea. Pathetic, maybe, but that was what it was. It was only reasonable when he'd never been kissed before, and he was pretty sure his crush on Noctis was at about a twelve on a one-to-ten scale.

If Noctis could hear the chorus of _yes... kiss me... please kiss me... kiss me now..._ that was sounding off in Prompto's mind, Prompto probably would have died of embarrassment. Whatever Noctis was thinking, though, it had him leaning his head slightly forward, closer to Prompto's face. Closer to his lips. Closer. Closer still.

 _Yes. Yes, please..._ Prompto's mind pleaded for the impending contact.

Literal milliseconds before their lips touched, though, a loud rapping knock sounded on the door to the motel room, and a familiar voice echoed from the other side. "Y'all still sleepin' in there?" Cindy asked.

And just like that, the moment was gone. They jumped away from each other like a pair of opposing magnets. Prompto's whole face was red, Noctis was quickly yanking his shirt over his shoulders, and clearing his throat to answer Cindy. "Um... no. Come on in," he called.

When the door opened to show Cindy carrying a pair of plastic containers with food in them, Prompto cast his eyes away from the door to look down at the floor. If anyone would be able to read his face and see what had just happened, it was Cindy. "Hey, Cin," he murmured, trying desperately to hide the red that was flooding his cheeks.

His attempts proved to be in vain, though, as Cindy looked between the two of them with a hundred questions in her eyes. "Did I come at a bad time?" she asked.

"N-no. No," Noctis answered. "I, um... I was just getting ready to take a shower, then take Prompto to get his stuff. I'll be back."

Prompto felt the warmth of a hand clasping his shoulder, and that was finally what convinced him to turn and look at Noctis again. His friend's face was flushed, too—a shade of pink that Prompto had never seen before, but he loved it—and he smiled a nervous smile before excusing himself from the room in a hurry.

When the door closed behind him, Prompto tried to will the red from his face before he turned to look at Cindy. He didn't get the chance. Cindy set the food down on the table and stepped in front of Prompto. "Y'all looked real nervous," she pointed out. "Like I caught ya doin' somethin' that-" She stopped abruptly, green eyes widening as clasped she the hand not holding the plastic food containers to Prompto's shoulder. "Prom!"

"Not that!" Prompto insisted. "We weren't like... no. Not that. We just... I think he almost..." In lieu of words, Prompto reached up and pointed at his lips.

Surprise appeared on Cindy's face. "He almost kissed you? Prom!" she shook his shoulder gently. Just as soon as the surprise appeared, though, it melted away into remorse. "Oh. Oh, almost. He _almost_ kissed you and then I—shoot, I'm sorry, Prom! But! But he almost kissed you! That must mean he likes you! Which means that you should totally go for it!" The remorse rebuilt itself into a smile and she shook Prompto's shoulder, like she was completely sure what she was saying was true.

Did it mean that, though? It could have meant a lot of things, but did it have to mean that Noctis liked him? Maybe he just wanted to try it. He didn't seem like that type, not at all, but there had to be _some_ reason that he'd almost kissed Prompto, of all people. Some reason that _wasn't_ the fact that he shared Prompto's feelings. Maybe it was just a sympathy kiss; Noctis felt sorry for him because... well, he had plenty of reasons. People who didn't really like each other kissed all the time. He knew how Cindy would respond to his arguments, though, so he didn't say anything aloud. Instead, he just shrugged.

Cindy frowned. "Does Noct strike you as the type who'd just kiss someone he didn't like? Y'all should talk. Over dinner. I brought it here!" She held out the plastic containers "Wesk and Iggy made some lasagna. You should-"

With a quick shake of his head, Prompto accepted the food. "I... no. No. I mean, maybe. If he brings it up. M-maybe. But I can't, Cindy. I... I can't, okay?" Just thinking about it right now, his face felt like it was going to melt from how warm it was. "Most of the time I can just talk to him normally, but there are times when I look at him and I just..." _feel like I'm falling head over heels,_ his mind finished. He shook his head hard. "But I've only known him for... it's crazy. I think... I think I should just forget it happened for now."

The look on Cindy's face was disapproving, to say the least. "Relationships've been built in less than the time you and Noctis have known each other. But I ain't gonna be pushy, Prom. 'Least not right now. Just think about it, alright? Promise?"

That, Prompto decided, was the easiest promise he had ever made. He was pretty sure that no matter what he tried, he wouldn't be able to forget that it happened. Hadn't happened. Almost happened. Whatever. He nodded and flashed Cindy a weak smile, shrugging his head to the side.

Cindy wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her in a tight hug. It agitated the burns on his back, but he didn't say anything; didn't tell her to stop. He needed a hug. For more than one reason. "I'm just glad you're okay. Nea and me were worried sick," she told him, pulling back from the hug and smiling softly at him.

"So am I."

Prompto could almost read the thousand questions on his friend's face—about his aeon, about how he'd ended up in the cave to begin with; all questions he didn't really have answers to at the moment—but for now, she nudged his food toward him and encouraged him to eat and tell her more about the almost-kiss with Noctis. While this wasn't helping him forget... he didn't mind sharing. Part of him didn't want to forget, anyway.


	20. Backlash

Why hadn't he just done it?

When he'd been standing there, hugging Prompto, looking into his eyes and marveling at just how gorgeous his eyes _were_ , then looking at his lips and marveling at how perfect _those_ were... he should have done it. He should have ignored the knock on the door, ignored Cindy's voice and just kissed Prompto. _Idiot,_ he chastised himself as he stood in the shower, watching the water—colder than his usual showers, and for good reason—drip from his body and onto the floor. Who knew when, or if, he would ever get another chance like that again? With a heavy sigh, he turned the water off.

Maybe it was for the best, though. All of the little moments that they'd shared were awesome; things that he didn't want to ruin. Little looks when things were quiet, the way he'd rested against Prompto's shoulder on the first night they'd met. The way Noctis almost felt electric sparks when their hands touched on the rock at Galdin Quay. The way Prompto had looked in his eyes just moments ago. Moments like that, he wondered if maybe what was going on between them was a little more than friendship. No, wonder was the wrong word. Moments like that, he _knew_. It was crazy, though. They'd only known one another just over a week. Still, when he looked at Prompto, he felt something that he hadn't before.

He'd dated. Of course he'd dated. Not for a long time, though, and never without it ending in disaster. His life was too hectic, the guys he dated always wanted to move faster than he wanted to move, or they were only interested in sex. Not to say that Noctis wasn't; he was twenty-years-old and he definitely had feelings like that. For him, though... he just liked to know someone first. To trust them.

No, he didn't really know Prompto all that well, but he _definitely_ trusted Prompto. Something about Prompto just _felt_ different. Prompto wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose. How he knew, he wasn't sure, but he just knew. Noctis had only known him for a week, but the trust was already there. His trust for Prompto was already on-par with his trust for Ignis or Luna or Gladio or anyone else in their group. Already. Of course it was. There wasn't a single thing about Prompto that wasn't trustworthy. The world had hurt him. He deserved some kindness and some trust placed in him. He laughed a soft laugh as he tugged his boxers up to his hips and then glanced at himself in the mirror. 

Noctis raised his chin, glancing at the angry purple marks on his neck. Prompto's daemon self had been incredibly strong. Just like Pelna's. Strong and ruthless. The breathless feeling came back to his memory, and he pulled in a deep and strong breath, just to remind himself that he could. Honestly, it was fine. It wasn't even close to the worst he'd be injured, and he was sure that he'd have worse injuries later on. It was a small price to pay to have Prompto back with them again; to have the chance to get Prompto away from the environment that had shoved him so far back into the corner that he was scared to eat without permission, or to speak without being spoken to. Still, it was another ugly mark on his body. Something else to add to the ever-growing collection. At least it would fade faster than some of the others.

Running his hands through his hair and taking the hair gel from his toiletry bag, he made quick work of putting the mop of black mess into its usual style. Organized chaos, that was what Noctis called it. His jeans came next, then his t-shirt, his over-shirt, and he sat on the edge of the bathtub to pull his boots on.

He trusted Prompto. So, what was the big deal? If Prompto _was_ going to turn him down, he'd do it in a way that wasn't going to crush Noctis completely, right? If they ended up just staying friends, then it was better to have everything out in the open, so that nothing awkward or uncomfortable was hanging over them. As nervous as he was, he couldn't see Prompto being cruel. Prompto didn't know how, Noctis didn't think. So, with that in mind and his boots tied, he stood up, held his breath like it was a way to hold the idea in his mind and not let his nerve escape, and walked back out into the main motel room.

Except, when he got there, the room was empty.

Well, not empty. All of his things, as well as Prompto's things, were still there. Prompto's messenger bag hung on the bedpost, and there was a plastic container of food sitting on the bedside table with a piece of paper on top. Letting out his held breath in a thin-lipped stream of air, he flipped the note over. _Noct,_ it read, _Went to shower at Cin and Nea's. She brought dinner over! Weskham and Ignis made lasagna! Meet me at my dad's apartment at about five? - Prom_

Noctis nodded his head a couple of times, like the note could understand him, then set it on the bedside table. The plastic container was lukewarm to the touch, but it didn't matter. Most of the things that Ignis and Weskham cooked tasted good as leftovers too, and it wasn't like he really ate his meals hot very often. He either overslept or just didn't make it to the table in a timely fashion. He picked his fork up from the bedside table, sat down, and started eating. While he ate, his mind cycled through the past few days. The past week or so.

Ever since he'd met Prompto, everything seemed different. Some things were chaotic. The aeon thing, and the fact that someone seemed to be out to hurt Prompto—a fact that he'd have to bring up to Weskham and Cor when he got the chance—were kind of tough to explain. Everything else, though; the fact that his friendship with Prompto was so new and amazing, the fact that just talking to Prompto could always seem to bring a smile to his face, the fact that no matter _what_ happened, Prompto seemed to think of him as cool and brave and some kind of hero... _that_ was good. That was more than good.

Noctis knew that he wasn't alone. Not by any stretch of the imagination. He always had Ignis and Luna, Iris, Crowe, Nyx, Cor, Weskham... even _Gladio_. Sometimes, though, with the way their group always seemed to pair off into obvious pairs, or even group up into obvious groups, it was hard not to feel alone. Since he'd met Prompto, he hadn't felt alone at all. Now that Prompto was moving to the old Lestallum hunting compound with them, he wondered if, maybe, he'd never have to feel alone again.

The thought brought a tiny smile to his face as he cut a piece from his lasagna and brought it to his mouth.

Whatever they were, friends or something else, Noctis didn't have to say goodbye to him. Maybe they could be roommates when they got to the compound. Noctis hadn't really had a roommate before. It had been nice, having the small cabin to himself and everything, but at the same time, he'd always wanted a roommate. Maybe he was assuming too much, though. They'd almost kissed. Maybe it would be too awkward. A flash of worry crept up. What if he'd ruined everything?

Shaking himself out of it, he finished the last of his lasagna, stood from the bed, and moved to take the plastic containers to the kitchen. As he walked through the hall, he chuckled to himself. In the short time they'd been here, Weskham and Ignis had commandeered the motel's kitchen, and Noctis was pretty sure that the staff would be more than happy to see their group leave so that they could have it back. The guests, though, would probably be disappointed. The pair, with Iris and occasionally Luna's help, had been making meals for all of the guests. In a better world than this, Noctis could almost see them running a restaurant together.

Instead, they were stuck fighting a losing battle against daemons night after night. That thought had him frowning as he pushed the door to the kitchen open. Someday, if they were alive to see the end of this, maybe they'd get the chance to live normal lives. Ignis and Weskham could run a restaurant. Cor would probably help them. Gladio could work at a gym, or as some kind of trainer. Luna and Nyx could get married and have children like they obviously wanted to. Iris and Crowe could go to college. Cindy could work full time in her grandfather's garage. Aranea could focus more of her time on helping her friends with their hobby shop. And Prompto. Prompto could be a real photographer. It could be more than just a hobby. Prompto could be safe, instead of being forced into danger all the time. Prompto could be happy.

His friends deserved so much better than to constantly fight a war against enemies that wanted nothing more than to rip them to shreds, and if there was a way that he could stop it? Well, there was nothing he wouldn't do.

"Ah, Noct," a familiar voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He lifted his head to spot Ignis, loading some dishes into the motel's economy sized dishwasher. "It's heartening to see that your sleep habits are still much the same when you actually manage to get some sleep."

A soft chuckle was Noctis' only reply, initially. Eventually, though, he shrugged a shoulder and nodded his head. "Couldn't really help it," he admitted, setting the container in the dishwasher and the fork on the bottom shelf. "It's been a long past couple days. I just-"

Ignis nodded and gave Noctis a pointed look. "I know. What with your insistence on running past the group to get to where you wanted to go again, and the fact that you were almost choked to death, it's been an incredibly hectic past couple of days for you, hasn't it?" His sarcasm was deadpan, and his expression showed Noctis that he was far from impressed.

Noctis didn't really have a response to that. He raked his teeth over his lip and flashed Ignis an apologetic glance. "I just-"

"I know," Ignis interrupted, not letting him finish his explanation. "I genuinely understand, Noctis. You were worried about Prompto, and for good reason. He was severely hurt. Wandering blind in a dangerous mine filled with daemons." His expression softened then, as he pressed the buttons to start the dishwasher. "However, as much as I understand your motives and as glad as I am that you managed to save him, Cor was livid. Gladio _is_ livid. If you keep acting reckless and running ahead, it's only a matter of time before you get yourself killed."

With eyes on the floor, Noctis nodded his head in acceptance of the lecture. "Guess it was too much to hope that I could keep the Big Guy on my side for more than a day at a time, huh?" he laughed at his own expense.

In lieu of an answer—which was fine, because Noctis didn't really need to hear about how much Gladio hated him right then—Ignis heaved a heavy sigh and glanced down at the floor. The expression on his face looked almost like he was biting his tongue; like he was holding back. He stepped in front of Noctis, a hand going to each of his shoulders. He craned downward, taking a look at the bruises on Noctis' neck. "Astrals, Noct. You look a mess. That was Prompto's daemon self, you said? Like the daemon Pelna you saw back in Piztala?"

Noctis hummed an affirmative answer and brought a hand up to his throat, touching it to the angry bruises. The pain made him cringe just slightly, but he nodded. "Yeah." He frowned. "I froze up. Couldn't do anything, because he looked so much like Prompto, and... for all I knew, Prompto _did_ y'know... blame me. And want revenge." He should have, anyway. "If Prompto hadn't shown up when he had, I don't know what would have happened." He did know. He'd be dead. But he didn't want to say it aloud. Ignis would be even angrier than he already was.

"I see." All anger had faded from Ignis' expression now, and replaced with concern. He let his hands fall from Noctis' shoulders. "Well, it's fortunate that he managed to save you. That you managed to save each other."

Why did people keep saying that? First Prompto, now Ignis. Noctis really didn't do anything. He'd shown up, almost gotten killed, Prompto had saved him, and they'd walked out of the cave together with Prompto's aeon. Still, he knew better than to argue with Ignis. Ignis always seemed to want to take Noctis' side, and would try to convince him that none of this was his fault. It was just what Ignis always did; the way he was. So, instead of arguing, Noctis just shrugged and nodded glumly.

Seeming to sense Noctis' desire to close the topic, Ignis turned toward the sink and made quick work of washing his hands. "I'm assuming by the fact that you're here now, that Prompto has woken up," he stated matter-of-factly, tugging his gloves back on, then gathering his over-shirt from the back of a nearby chair and pulling it back over his shoulders.

"Yeah, a little while ago." Noctis turned his eyes to the floor, smoothing a hand through his hair and huffing a bit of humorless laughter at everything that happened after that. Try as he might, Noctis had always been horrible at hiding when he was feeling embarrassed. "He, uh... he said he was gonna go shower at Aranea and Cindy's. I'm supposed to get Cor and Weskham, and then we're gonna meet up at his dad's place and go get his stuff."

The expression on Ignis' face was suspicious now, as he looked Noctis over; like he'd caught on to the fact that Noctis was trying to hide something. All in all, it wasn't terribly surprising. Ignis always caught on. "Which means that he agreed to come to Lestallum with us." It wasn't a question. It didn't need to be, though.

Noctis nodded, biting his lip to keep himself from revealing too much about how that conversation had gone. "He seems really excited. I don't know what he expects of the compound, though."

The compound they'd lived in up until a year ago was almost like a summer camp, Noctis had always thought. There were several small cabins that were almost like apartments. They had their own bathrooms and all of the necessary bedroom furnishings; beds and bureaus, and large closets. Each one was decorated to its occupant's tastes. There was a two story building in the middle; one floor was a laundry room and a kitchen, and the other was a war room, library, and a rec room. As a kid, Noctis had never really gotten to go to a summer camp, so he figured that this was the closest that he'd come. It wasn't exactly a luxury hotel, but it was the last time Noctis had ever really felt at home, and he found himself missing it; eager to get back. Maybe back there, they could put their family back together.

Noctis' cabin, back when he'd lived there, had a full sized bed, even though he'd lived alone. Everyone else had king sized, though, because they were sharing with someone else. It would be easy enough for them to change that full into two twins, if Prompto wanted to be his roommate, right? He'd have to make a point to ask Weskham and Ignis if they could look into that later. Not to mention, to ask Prompto if he wanted to be his roommate, to begin with. If he could get through a conversation without blushing now...

"Anything would probably be better than where he is," Ignis countered.

A snort of a laugh was Noctis' initial reply to that. "You're not wrong," he agreed. "Bet he'll flourish if we get him the hell away from his dad. It'll take no time to pull him out of his shell."

With a smirk, Ignis nodded his head. "You seem quite invested in Prompto," he pointed out. "I can't recall ever seeing you quite so interested in actively pursuing a friendship with someone who started outside of our teams." His tone was gentle, understanding.

That wasn't exactly a truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie, either. Their lifestyle was a lonely one. Making new friends was always a fifty-fifty shot. A risk. Befriending people who _couldn't_ function during Hour Twenty-Five was a risk. Life was dangerous when being in the wrong place at the wrong time would cause a person to turn into a crystal, completely incapable of protecting themselves. It was just as risky to befriend people who could function in Hour Twenty-Five, though, because of the daemons' anger during that hour. He'd experienced firsthand what that loss could feel like many times, and really didn't want to again.

With Prompto, though, there was something there that just gravitated Noctis toward him; something that hadn't been there with anyone else before. The desire to protect was strong, sure, but there was also an instant kinship that made him trust Prompto implicitly after knowing him for such a short time. There was the look on his face when the sunlight hit it just right that almost stole the breath right out of Noctis' lungs. There was the way his smile could light up a room. 

Noctis gave himself a mental slap to stop that thought process. Was he invested? Yeah, it was safe to say that he was. 

"Guess so. He needs a friend." Simple as that. Right?

Ignis clasped his hand on Noctis' shoulder. "He's not the only one, Noct," he pointed out.

Noctis blinked a couple of times. It wasn't as though Noctis didn't have friends. Prompto had friends, too. Even before he'd met the rest of the team, Prompto had Aranea and Cindy. It wasn't like either of them really _needed_ friends in the basest definition of the term. Everyone on the team—even Gladio, as terse as things were between the two of them most of the time—was Noctis' friend. Maybe need wasn't the right word, at least in Noctis' case. Wanted, though? Yeah, he definitely _wanted_ Prompto's friendship.

Before he could collect his brain enough to come up with a reply, Ignis started toward the kitchen door. "I suppose we should seek out Weskham and Cor, then, yes? So that we don't keep Prompto waiting for too long."

"You're coming, too?" Noctis questioned, but even as the words left his lips, he slid his hands into his pockets and followed behind Ignis.

With a nod, Ignis stepped out of the way, holding the door for Noctis and letting it draw closed when he got through. "I'm..." a pause, and his lips turned down into a scowl, "...intrigued by Prompto's father. He seems to have some sort of research going on, and some reason to treat Prompto as he does. I'd like to see the man again—as much as one can _desire_ to see such a man, I suppose—to get a better gauge of the reasoning behind this."

Noctis couldn't help the little grin that crossed his face then. Leave it to Ignis, honestly. No one Noctis knew was smarter, which meant that he would be able to get to the bottom of why Prompto was treated the way he was. Especially with Weskham helping him. "I ever tell you that you're the best?" he asked.

"A few times," Ignis replied, heading toward Takka and Cid's duplex, where Weskham and Cor had taken up temporary residence.

While Noctis spoke with Weskham and Cor, Ignis spoke with Gladio, who kept casting scowls Noctis' way. His lips drew down again. One step forward, two steps back. Noctis didn't know how Gladio didn't understand. If Ignis had been in danger, all the logic and all of the commands in the world wouldn't have been able to keep him from throwing caution completely to the wind and sprinting into whatever danger Ignis was in. For a moment, he wondered why he kept comparing his relationship with Prompto to people like Gladio and Ignis or Luna and Nyx, but he shook that off and decided to focus on talking to Weskham and Cor instead.

Getting their coordinators to follow along wasn't even a struggle. The biggest struggle Noctis had to endure was the expression on Cor's face as he joined in on Ignis' disapproval of Noctis' recently developed habit of running ahead of the rest of the group. That wasn't even really a struggle, though. Like Ignis, Cor had understood his motives in one breath, but discouraged him from doing it again in the next. Unlike Ignis' lecture, though, on the very edge of Cor's tone, Noctis heard a certain level of approval. It both surprised him and didn't. It surprised him because Cor had been shouting after him the loudest the night before. It didn't surprise him, though, because they'd all have done the same thing. If one of their own was in danger, they'd all want to get there, consequences be damned.

Which was why the hand clasping his shoulder in understanding at the end of the lecture as they rounded the corner to Prompto's street didn't surprise Noctis in the slightest. Cor's expression was still a tight-lipped scowl, but his eyes weren't as hard; almost as though he was only disapproving because it was his job as their coordinator.

They rounded the corner to see Prompto, looking every bit as anxious as Noctis imagined he'd be. He went from glancing up at the apartment on the third floor, to looking down at his shoes, kicking a couple of rocks, and then glancing back upward. If Noctis had to hazard a guess, he was doubting himself. What he was doubting, Noctis wasn't sure. He hoped, though, that it wasn't the decision to go to Lestallum. They were closer, halfway down the street to the apartment building, when the front door opened and Verstael stepped out. He looked at Prompto in disdain, appearing partially surprised to see him, partially annoyed. Words were exchanged, words that saw Verstael scowling and Prompto shying back a bit. Noctis picked up his pace a bit, as did Ignis, Cor, and Weskham.

By the time they got there, Verstael was finishing his tirade, scowling at Prompto. "… my polymer. It's not even as though it was too difficult a task, or as though I was asking for the moon, child. I suppose this is why I always leave important jobs to your brother. At least _he's_ not a failure," he spat.

Prompto winced at the word failure, turning his eyes back to glance down at the ground. "S-sorry, sir. I... I'll..."

"Don't apologize. Apologies are useless. Much like you," Verstael seethed.

The sound that Noctis made—half throat-clear, half growl—he felt bubble up from the pit of his chest. He brushed past Prompto, standing protectively in front of his friend. If looks could kill, the glare that Noctis was giving Verstael would have set him on fire, burned him alive, and scattered the ashes to the wind.

Verstael didn't seem fazed, though. He simply turned his head toward Noctis now, his scowl turning into a snake's sneer. "Ah, of course. I couldn't expect you to show up after such a spectacular failure without a retinue of advocates, could I?" Verstael commented, his eyes finding Noctis in the crowd and eyeing him in a really weird way. It wasn't suspicion, really. It was more like a mixture of disdain and interest. But whatever it was, it was unsettling.

Weskham's voice came next. "We merely wanted to ensure that you didn't forget our deal, Mr. Besithia," he replied, his voice calm, but with a low rumble of threat.

" _Dr._ Besithia," Verstael insisted. "How could I forget the group so intent on taking Argentum away from his family?" At that, Verstael's eyes turned to Prompto. "And you, so willing to depart after I fed you and housed you for so many years. It's almost a slap to the face."

Prompto frowned. "Father, I-"

Behind Noctis, he felt the air shift. When he turned his head, he saw Ignis' hand on Prompto's shoulder. Shaking his head, he smiled a gentle and comforting smile. "He's merely trying to influence you into doubting your decision, Prompto. Don't allow him to hold power over you anymore. You're better than that," he insisted.

Words appeared to die on Prompto's lips, and he pressed them together tightly, nodding and glancing down at the ground instead.

"Now who's trying to influence him?" was Verstael's simple reply.

Cor's fists were balled at his sides, eyes silently daring Verstael to continue speaking. "We're here for his things, Besithia. Let us go get them."

Verstael was quiet, and stepped aside. "By all means. I was on my way out anyway," he nodded, faux-amiability crossing his face. "Just remember, Argentum. When they decide that you're too weak to keep, you always have a home back here with us." He reached out, touching Prompto's arm when he walked past.

Prompto flinched from Verstael's touch, embarrassment flashing across his face as he edged to hide behind Noctis. Noctis didn't let the embarrassment take root, though, instead opting to stand in full-protective stance in front of Prompto. Once Verstael disappeared, Cor urged Noctis and Ignis into the apartment building behind Prompto. Noctis complied willingly, and then turned to see that Weskham and Cor were standing in front of the door. It didn't take a genius to know what they were doing: standing guard in case Verstael decided to return. Ignis and Noctis followed Prompto up the stairs and then into the apartment.

The whole apartment was incredibly unsettling, honestly. Noctis took it in as he walked down the hall, following Prompto to his room. Last time, he hadn't really had a chance to look. He'd been too busy defending Prompto from Loqi and Verstael. Now, he took the opportunity. It didn't really look like a home. In lieu of decorations, paperwork lined all tables and surfaces. The main hall had a television and a couch, but both appeared barely used. There wasn't even a kitchen table, or really any plates in the kitchen. The only place that looked somewhat like an actual room in a house was Prompto's bedroom. His bed was made neatly, though, like it wasn't slept in very often. He had photos on his walls, but they were all dusty like the room didn't get cleaned much, which made sense if he wasn't here often. He deserved better than this. And Noctis would give it to him.

While Noctis leaned in the doorframe, he couldn't help but notice that he'd lost Ignis somewhere in the hallway. He turned his head to look down the hall, blinking when he saw an open door. _Was that open when I passed? Where's Specs?_ he asked himself. Before he could question anything else, though, he heard Prompto's voice from in front of him, sounding absolutely miserable.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Noct," he murmured as he rooted through one of his dresser drawers and stuffed his clothes into a duffel bag. "I figured he'd be here, but-"

Noctis shook his head. "You don't have to apologize, Prom, alright?" he insisted, pushing off from the door frame and walking into the room to help Prompto pack. "Do you want these pictures?" He pointed at the dust-coated photos on the walls.

Prompto nodded, then went quiet for a couple of seconds. When he finally spoke up, his voice was quiet. "I... I just want to make sure that you know... he didn't change my mind, y'know? About anything. I still want... I mean, I still really want to come with you." A brief pause. "You guys, I mean!" he added quickly. "I can't wait to get out of here." The last part was added with more conviction than the rest.

"You'll like the compound. It's kinda like cabins, but with a shared kitchen and a huge rec room. And it's so close to the city that we could walk there every day to shop and stuff." Noctis smiled. "And there's a lot of good places for you to get pictures right near the compound."

A shadow of a smile came back to Prompto's face as he glanced at Noctis. "Sounds like heaven," he murmured.

Noctis nodded. "And I was thinkin'," he wrapped one of Prompto's pictures in a hoodie from his closet, and put it into the bag. "Maybe you'd wanna be my roommate? You could bunk with someone else too. Like Aranea and Cindy or something, but... my cabin's solo. You know? So, I-"

"Yeah!" Prompto exclaimed, his voice eager. His cheeks flushed instantly, and he cleared his throat. "Yeah. That'd be cool..." His voice was nonchalant but embarrassed, as he turned back to continue packing his duffel full of clothes.

Before Noctis could reply, the door swung open again and Ignis appeared. There was an odd expression on his face; extremely nervous and slightly suspicious as he glanced over a small, palm-sized notebook. Just as quickly as Noctis took notice, though, Ignis looked up, cleared his throat, closed the notebook, and slid it into his coat pocket. Noctis wanted to ask, but before he got the chance—and effectively cutting off Noctis' chance to ask—Ignis crossed the room and placed a hand on Prompto's shoulder with a warm smile on his face.

"In my experience, three packers are faster than two. Let's get you out of here faster, shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you guys like to see a Sims 3 or 4 version of what the hunter compound looks like? ♥ I've been toying with making it, but only if it's something you're interested in seeing!


	21. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The layout of the compound _is_ coming, friends! It's just taking a tad longer than expected! ♥ Thought you guys would want this chapter first!

Prompto had opted to ride with Noctis, Lunafreya, and Nyx to Lestallum; Nyx drove, while Prompto sat with Noctis in the back seat. For the whole first half of the ride, Noctis talked eagerly about the compound. It seemed like a domino effect of memories, and Prompto was honestly just glad to listen. The conversation, one-sided though it was, was enough to distract him from what had happened with his dad earlier. Watching Noctis get excited—like, really get excited, to the point that it was contagious—made it all worth it. His eyes lit up every time he talked about the fishing spot near the compound, and how some days he would spend hours upon end there, from dawn until late afternoon, catching as many fish as he possibly could.

Then, he talked about nights off spent in the rec room when their team was bigger. They'd play video games or pool until the wee hours of the morning, and then spread off to their individual rooms to get some sleep for the next day's missions. Occasionally, Nyx or Lunafreya would put in their two cents, recounting memories from a time long past.

Some of the memories would make Noctis go somber and quiet for a few seconds, but then he'd look at Prompto, shake it off, give a little quirk of the lips, and then go back into his story like the distraction hadn't even affected him. Prompto envied that, honestly. He wished he could shake things off like that, but he supposed that it was just another way Noctis was awesome. By the time they passed the Disc of Cauthess—one of the few places that were known as daemon hot spots that _no hunter_ was supposed to touch because of how insane and vicious the daemons there were—things had settled down considerably. Noctis was leaning his head back against the headrest ("not sleeping, just resting my eyes," his friend insisted), and Prompto was left alone in his own mind.

The first thing he thought was that the Disc looked really cool in this lighting. He lifted his camera from where it hung at his chest, aimed it, and snapped a couple of shots.

"Need me to stop?" Nyx asked, smirking over his shoulder at Prompto.

Prompto shook his head no. "My camera's pretty good about getting shots on the go," he answered. "But thanks anyway. I really just wanna get to this compound that Noct has been raving about."

When Noctis didn't jump to defend himself from Prompto's tease, Prompto turned his head to glance at his friend to find that his eyes were still closed, and his chest rose and fell with the rhythmic breathing of sleep. Prompto chuckled a soft laugh and stared for a couple of extra seconds. "Just resting his eyes, he said," he commented quietly.

To that, Lunafreya laughed. "Yes, sadly, 'just resting my eyes' often turns into 'sleeping for the better part of a trip to Lestallum' without Noctis ever being aware," she mused. "Noctis has many positive traits, and chief among them is an ability to sleep through just about anything. Once, a moderate tremor shook the Cauthess Rest Area while we were sleeping there," she pointed at the rest area as they passed it. "Everyone was awake and in a frenzy, but Noctis just dozed on."

With a snort of a laugh, Nyx nodded, turning his eyes back to the road. "We went in to check on him, and he slept through that, too. Got Regis so worried that he actually had Ignis check Noct's pulse and make sure he was still with us." The laughter Nyx gave was fond.

Lunafreya's expression went somber at that. "I must admit," she started, "it feels a bit strange to be going back to the compound. The last time that we were all there together, Regis was with us. I would be wholly unsurprised if it has fallen into a state of disrepair. Regis and Clarus were the ones who did most of the maintenance on the place." She turned her head to look at Nyx.

"Nothing Cor, Gladio, and me can't fix." Nyx reached over to place a hand on top of hers.

Prompto watched the pair of them for a second, smiling softly. They'd obviously been together for a long time. There was a whole conversation that Prompto couldn't hear; silent communication that he was honestly glad he couldn't understand. Not because it would offend him or anything, but because couples deserved their privacy. In the silence, his eyes drifted to Noctis. He'd heard enough from little conversations here and there to know that the Regis that Nyx had mentioned was Noctis' dad. Clarus was Gladio and Iris' dad. The mention had him curious.

Because of that, before he could stop himself, he asked, "what was Regis like?"

The whole car went quiet. Eerily quiet, honestly. They were at an intersection, and there was a reasonably long line of traffic passing by, so the silence was heavy and palpable. It made Prompto backpedal, blinking hard and looking from Lunafreya and Nyx, to Noctis, and then back to Nyx and Lunafreya. He swallowed nervously, cleared his throat, and tried to recover.

"Ah... I... I mean, you don't have to answer. It's... I wasn't trying to-"

Lunafreya shook her head no. "It's okay," she insisted, her tone gentle as she glanced from Prompto to Noctis. "It's bound to come up sooner or later, and since you're with us, you deserve to know." She glanced at Nyx, as though she was looking for reassurance or a place to start her story.

Once again proving their connection, Nyx sighed a soft sigh and smoothed a hand through his hair, before turning onto a different road and continuing toward Lestallum. "He was... awesome." A sad laugh escaped as he turned his eyes to the road. "Real nice guy. Like the dad most of us didn't get the chance to have. Back in Insomnia, he was kind of like the town hero. He and Aulea—that's Noct's mom—were almost like the king and queen of the place."

"They weren't, of course," Lunafreya added from the passenger's side. "People approached Regis about helping to run the town, but he wanted to take a more proactive approach in defending the place. He and his wife hunted, until Aulea died helping Noctis escape Insomnia when it fell." Her eyes drifted to Noctis then, sadness and concern filling them. "Regis continued after that, and even picked his life up after losing Aulea. He even managed to find love again with Clarus." She smiled a sad but fond smile. "It made sense, of course. They'd been together for years without realizing it."

Nyx chuckled and nodded his head. "The Amicitias and the Caelums were... _are_... essentially a massive family. Always have been. Aulea and Sophia—that's Gladio and Iris' mom—were always close. Regis and Clarus were always close. Iris and Gladio are more like Noct's siblings than friends..." he paused, cleared his throat, frowned, and turned another corner, "were, in Gladio's case."

"Gladio misses him, though," Lunafreya added, nodding as she glanced in the side mirror at Ignis and Gladio's car behind them. "Just as much as he misses Gladio. They can just never seem to say it." Her tone and her eyes were both sad.

After a beat of silence, Nyx went back to talking about Regis. "Regis was real proud of Noct, too. Loved him as much as a dad should love his son." Sighing, he shrugged. "Noct had him wrapped around his little finger, too. Whatever Noct wanted, Regis made sure he had it. He wanted to go fishing? Regis would find the time. Found out he was good at drawing? Regis bought him a sketchbook. It was more than just Noct, though. He was a dad to all of us, like I said. Always tried to make sure we were all happy."

As much as a dad should love his son. Prompto frowned at that. It was good that Noctis had a loving father. That Noctis' father wanted nothing more than to ensure that he was always happy. Prompto felt a wave of bitter sadness, for two reasons, though. Fathers were supposed to love their sons. Prompto had never really gotten the impression that his dad loved him _or_ Loqi. Why adopt a pair of sons if you're not going to love them? Not going to even _care_ about them? The second reason was slightly more angering, though. Why was Noctis' dad—who'd been this great and amazing person—gone, while Prompto's dad was still alive? It didn't seem fair.

Prompto's eyes were on Noctis as he shook himself out of his frustration. He was both amazed and grateful that he was sleeping through the whole conversation. "I wish I'd gotten a chance to meet him," he supplied, turning to look at Lunafreya.

"He would have liked you," she replied. "He would have appreciated the influence you have on Noctis."

Influence? Prompto arched an eyebrow. "I don't know if I have any influence on-"

Nyx chuckled. "Oh, you definitely do," he insisted. "There's a reason Crowe calls him Edgelord. Doesn't smile much anymore. Y'know. Kinda a mopey mess."

Was that true? Prompto shook his head no. "I've seen him smile. A lot, actually. Yeah, sometimes he looks sad, and sometimes he says things that show sadness. But he smiles all the time when we hang out..." It seemed like Noctis had fun when they were together.

To that, Luna just smirked. "Exactly. _You_ see him smile. When he's with _you,_ " she pointed out. "You can tell he's happy when you two are together." She turned back in her seat, settling in and glancing over at Nyx with a knowing expression on her face.

"He's happy when he's with us, too, sure. It's just really weird to see him so psyched to hang with someone who's not originally from our group." Nyx shrugged. "Usually, Noct tends to keep to himself outside of us. Think he's nervous to let new people in, after everything he's been through."

That made sense. Of course, that made sense. So, why was Prompto so special? Why did Noctis see _Prompto_ , of all people, as worthy of his trust? All Prompto had proven was that he could get into trouble, and maybe luck into being helpful once in awhile. Prompto's eyes wandered back to Noctis, who still slept right through the whole conversation. A tiny smile, really just an upward twitch of the lips, crossed Prompto's face as he looked his friend over. No, he didn't know what Noctis saw as special about him, but as long as he _did_ see it, Prompto would be there.

Lunafreya glanced back over her shoulder at Prompto and smiled a gentle smile. "I think you'll like the compound," she started, closing the previous topic for discussion and opening a new one. "It's sort of like a little community all our own. It's outside of town, so not many people really know where it is, but we live close enough to town for us to just walk or drive over whenever we so choose. The lounge building has a massive kitchen upstairs, and downstairs there's a rec room with video games and an endless list of movies that we've all collected over time. We even have a _Jacuzzi_. Weskham insists that it helps relieve tension after a hunt, but I think he just likes it, to be honest."

"Can't blame the guy," Nyx commented. "Wesk's wound tighter than a spring most days. Cor too, honestly. Probably just doesn't wanna stress himself into an early grave."

With a soft laugh, Lunafreya nodded her head. "True enough, I suppose. Of course, I suppose that this is all assuming that Weskham kept it all when we split up." At that, she hummed thoughtfully.

But Nyx just laughed. "Wesk is more of a perfectionist than Specs, so I'd put money on the fact that it's still in shape. All our old safehouses probably are, too."

"Sounds more like a college campus or something than a hunting compound! How many safehouses did you guys have?" Prompto asked, blinking.

Nyx hummed in thought, then shrugged a shoulder. "Well, there's the one in Altissia, one in Meldacio that isn't really ours, but they let us use it whenever we head that way, a cabin in the Malmalam Thicket, the bunker in Ravatogh. I think Wesk and Cor keep a couple secret, too. Most of those aren't like the compound, though." He peered into the rear view mirror at Prompto. "We're talkin' bare bones. Just enough supplies to last a night or two if the need arises. Altissia's an apartment, though. Wesk's group lived there when we were split, so I'm willing to bet that it's in top shape."

"Now, I suppose, we can add Cid's garage and Aranea and Cindy's apartment to that list. Cid, Wedge, and Biggs promised to keep it in shape for us," Lunafreya nodded.

For a few seconds, Prompto was quiet, contemplating all that he was learning. "So you guys are like... a huge production, then," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "You have to have lots of funds and whatever to keep all these safehouses, right?"

Nyx shrugged and shook his head. "Well. Yes and no. The compound's off the grid. Got a deal with the plant in Lestallum to keep it supplied with power, 'cause they owed us favors. A lot of what we do and get in return has to do with favors. We do get paid, though. Usually pretty well when we do. Well enough that we could probably go on grid if we ever needed to, and keep at least half of our safehouses without running into money trouble. We damn well better, with what we put ourselves through."

Prompto just blinked, turning his head to look at Noctis. It was crazy to think that his friend was so well-off at their age. "But more's expected of you because of that, yeah?" he asked.

If Lunafreya or Nyx answered, he didn't hear it. He didn't really need to, though; he knew the answer. He thought of the morning after he and Noctis had met, on the train. The way Noctis was so nonchalant about the lack of awareness that people had of how much of a sacrifice that Noctis—that _all_ of these people—made every night. Maybe, he supposed, he was wrong about that. The understanding came in different ways; a favor here and upkeep of a safehouse there, but it was still there. It still wasn't enough, given what they'd been through. And now he was a part of this big production. A part of this group that had so much expected of them. Suddenly, Prompto found himself wondering if he could keep up.

Conversation continued in the same fashion until they pulled onto a bumpy dirt road and Lunafreya announced that they were almost there. Prompto's eyes turned to Noctis for a moment, to see that his friend was still sound asleep, even as the bumps jostled him around in his seat. Suddenly, sleeping through tremors in Cauthess didn't seem like quite as much of a tall tale.

Instead of just staring at Noctis, though, waiting for him to wake up, Prompto perked his head up to look over the convertible's window frame and get an unobstructed—well, mostly unobstructed; his glasses were still cracked from last week, after all—view of the compound as it appeared in the distance. He was on his feet, with his hands on the back of Lunafreya's head rest. As she looked up, glancing at him with a slightly disapproving, but mostly amused, look on her face, she sighed a heavy sigh. "Oh good. Another reckless boy in the group," she teased.

Prompto hissed nervously and moved to sit back down, but Nyx shook his head. "She's only teasing you. Just be careful on that knee, alright? I'll make sure you aren't laying in a ditch. Promise," he nodded securely.

When he looked back at Lunafreya, she was smiling. "I was only partially teasing, but for now, I'll let it slide. You're excited." She turned to look at the compound, and sat up in her seat. There was a touch of excitement in her expression as she looked at the several small cabins appearing in the distance.

At Nyx's reminder, Prompto took the weight off his wrapped knee, holding tightly to the back of Lunafreya's seat to keep balanced. The cabins themselves were small. The two that he could see right now looked large enough to host a bedroom and a bathroom. There was a clear view of a small wooded area, and Prompto saw peeks of a river in the distance. A couple of times, he'd heard mention of fishing in conjunction with Noctis, so Prompto assumed that was where he did his fishing. Maybe he was totally wrong, but it didn't matter. He was reasonably sure that Noctis would show him eventually. As the car slowed, and they neared the compound, Prompto settled carefully back into his seat.

To his left, he noticed that Noctis was stirring just slightly. He lifted his head, opened his eyes, then stretched his arms over his head. "Did I fall asleep?"

"Nah, you were just resting your eyes," Prompto teased. Honestly, he was more than a little surprised at the fact that he was willing to tease Noctis like that, but when he dared himself to glance over at Noctis, he was surprised to see his friend smirking at him.

Noctis shrugged. "To be fair, it started off that way," he mused, relaxing from his stretch when the car came to a full stop.

"Always does with you, Noct," Nyx commented, taking the keys from the car and tossing them over his shoulder to Noctis.

In his just-awake state, Noctis fumbled the catch and the keys ended up on the floor at his feet. "Can you blame me? You drive like a grandma. Felt almost like I was being _rocked_ to sleep," he teased in a sing-song voice as he grabbed the keys from the floor and put them in his coat pocket.

Lunafreya chuckled softly. "Nyx's alleged 'grandma driving' bought you more sleep time, did it not? If you ask me you really shouldn't complain too much about it," she pointed out, reaching for her door handle.

For a second, Noctis pondered that, and shrugged a shoulder. "That's true. I'll give you a pass this time," he agreed, giving Nyx a gentle punch in the shoulder.

"I do not drive like a damn grandma. It's not my fault someone replaced your foot with lead," Nyx huffed as he got out of the car.

The 'argument' continued as Prompto opened his door and got out of the car. Lunafreya half-smiled at Prompto and shook her head. "If I wasn't so certain that they were friends, I would swear that they hated each other," she joked. "Come with me, Prompto. Let them argue while we get your things from the back of the car. I'm sure Gladiolus will assist us when he arrives." A touched his arm, guiding him to the trunk of the car.

Prompto turned to look at Noctis and Nyx, who were quickly joined by Cor and Weskham when their car pulled up. A few yards away, Aranea and Cindy talked excitedly, pointing to all the different cabins. The third car pulled in just as Lunafreya opened the trunk. Crowe and Iris immediately joined Aranea and Cindy, but Ignis and Gladio took a few seconds longer, glancing around. It was only a few short seconds before Lunafreya noticed their appearance and waved them over. Prompto turned his head back toward the car and looked over all of the different luggage to find his own. Three duffel bags and a backpack was far more than everyone else had, and he found himself regretting it now that the thought of carrying everything to the cabin he was going to share with Noctis was becoming a reality.

"You look concerned," Ignis' voice caught his attention, causing him to turn and glance toward the three to his left.

With a nod and a bitter laugh, Prompto glanced at his things. "I've got a lot of stuff," he murmured, his voice quiet. Shy. Like it used to be before he found himself getting comfortable with the group.

Gladio brushed to the front of the pack, flashing Prompto a comforting smile. "Don't sweat it, kid. You just take your backpack and I'll get your stuff." He reached into the trunk, grabbing all three of Prompto's duffel bags, as well as one of Noctis' two bags.

As Gladio picked up the second bag, Prompto heard a familiar voice go from outright laughter, to soft laughter, to complete silence in a matter of a few seconds. When he looked at Noctis, after grabbing his backpack from the trunk of the car, any joy had completely drained from his friend's face. "Um... oh," he murmured. "I, um..." His eyes found Gladio, and then he looked back at Prompto. "I was gonna see if you needed any help, but... but it looks like the Big Guy's got it. So, um... Wesk and Cor asked me to help them with something. So, I'm gonna go do that? And meet you at the cabin. Okay?"

"Noct, wait," Ignis called.

Lunafreya nodded her head. "Yes, please Noctis-"

While Noctis backed away, before he turned around to hurry off, he flashed Prompto an apologetic glance. Prompto watched as his walk turned to a jog and he stared down at the ground in front of him. It was obvious that he didn't want to go, but... there he went. Prompto raked his teeth over his lip as he turned to glance at Gladio. It was stupid. Both of them obviously missed each other. They'd been like siblings, was what Nyx had said a little while ago. Like siblings who'd had a serious falling out. Stubborn siblings who couldn't get over themselves. Of course, that wasn't Prompto speaking from experience. His own experience with siblings was very limited, and very poor when it did exist, so he really didn't have much to compare to.

Snapping him out of his thoughts, Lunafreya's voice sounded off from beside him. "I should tag along with Noctis," she commented, turning toward Ignis and Gladio with a serious expression on her face. There was an underlying comment, and Prompto found himself wondering exactly why Lunafreya wanted to go, but he didn't ask. It wasn't really his business.

Ignis, especially, seemed to catch on to whatever Lunafreya was saying without saying, and he nodded a grateful nod her direction as he reached into the trunk of the car to pull Noctis' other bag out. "It only makes sense that it would be like this, given the way things went the last time Noctis and Gladio interacted when they were here together. I do agree, however, that you should go along. I'm curious as to the task that Weskham and Cor requested of him anyway."

With a nod, Lunafreya abandoned her own bags in the trunk, then clasped a hand to Prompto's shoulder, flashed him a reassuring smile, and then turned to follow behind Noctis.

That left Prompto with Ignis and Gladio. Gladio shifted the four bags he carried in his arms, then glanced at Ignis. "Let's head out," he said, his voice a low and quiet tone. Somber. Serious.

It was funny, in a way that wasn't really funny at all, how the mood had completely shifted. The ride here was filled with laughter. Even when they got out of the car, with Noctis and Nyx's playful ribbing, was fun. This situation with Gladio and Noctis, though, was weighing down on everyone. At first, while he walked alongside Gladio and Ignis to get to his cabin, he was silent; contemplative. After a few silent, limping steps, though, Prompto dared himself to push out against his internal boundary, and glance over from Ignis to Gladio.

"Um... hey. What did you mean, 'the way things went the last time Noctis and Gladio interacted when they were here together?'" Prompto asked Ignis. His tone was stammering and uncertain, but he'd asked it.

The silence was palpable once again; thick and weighty as it pressed down on the area around them. Gladio shifted the bags in his arms—Prompto wasn't sure if he'd lost his balance or it was just because of awkwardness—and Ignis looked at Gladio in question. By the time Gladio shrugged, Prompto was almost physically biting back the urge to rescind the question. He did, though. It was important to him, learning the answer; learning what troubled Noctis to the point that he completely clammed up whenever Gladio was around.

It was Ignis who spoke next, not Gladio. His voice was calm but exasperated, and Prompto instantly felt guilty for asking. "I don't want to go into too much detail—that's Noctis or Gladio's right, honestly—but there was a rather severe argument that ended with both Gladio and Noctis saying things that I don't truly think they meant in the moment."

"I didn't," Gladio put in, agreeing with Ignis, then going silent. He was looking straight ahead as he walked, not at Ignis or Prompto.

Ignis nodded knowingly, then continued like he hadn't been interrupted. "Tempers flared, and the events started to chain into one another. Lunafreya and I both slapped Noctis, and the whole thing culminated in us splitting into two teams and leaving this place. If I were to hazard a guess, the fact that it was the last memory Noctis really has of this place is compounding onto the fact that he and Gladio _still_ aren't really speaking and has reopened all of those old wounds."

Gladio looked more uncomfortable than Prompto imagined that he could possibly be. Prompto watched him for a couple of seconds, as they reached the steps to the smallest cabin in the bunch. The smallest, but also the only two story that Prompto had seen. _Plus_ it was the only one that had a balcony. That was pretty cool, and enough to distract him for a brief couple of seconds. Only a couple of seconds though. While several of Prompto's questions had been answered, a few more had risen in their place, and he turned to glance at Gladio, biting his lip. He wanted to ask so many things. He wanted to _say_ so many things. Gladio, though, for as nice as he had been to Prompto so far, was incredibly intimidating.

Which was why Prompto jumped when Gladio spoke up. "If you've got a question, ask it," he spoke, his tone equal parts conversational and commanding.

Still, Prompto swallowed nervously as Ignis fished a key ring from his pocket and started searching for a key. "I, um... I'm just wondering... why you and Noct don't talk to each other," he started. "You both want to, I think. He misses your friendship and you probably miss his, too since Nyx said you were pretty much like brothers, and it seems wrong that you can't talk to each other anymore." He spoke his piece, all in one breath. At the end of his rambling run-on sentence, he sucked in a sharp breath and glanced between the two older men.

Ignis was looking at Gladio, his eyebrow arched and a neutral expression on his face. Gladio went from looking at Ignis in apparent exasperation, to looking at Prompto in what looked like an attempt to gauge his intention. After a few seconds, he sighed a deep sigh and set one arm's worth of bags on the front step, then the other.

"Not that easy, kid," Gladio insisted. "Yeah, we were like brothers. Still are, I think. But..." He paused, scratching a hand through unruly hair and looking to Ignis for a couple of seconds. When he turned back to Prompto, he seemed a little bit more together. "It's not like I'm dwelling or anything. I just... I start to forgive him and then he goes and does reckless shit like running in front of the group when we could've all gone together. Twice. Makes me wonder if he hasn't learned anything from-" He paused, "-from all the shit we've been through."

Prompto went quiet, contemplative. He stayed quiet, too, from when Ignis pushed the door open to when they set all of his bags on the floor. He wanted to look around the room, but if he didn't speak now, he'd lose his nerve and he never would. It probably wasn't his place, and Gladio would probably say so. He couldn't help it, though. Watching the two of them avoid each other when they so clearly missed their old friendship was sad, even to Prompto, who had only been here for a short time. He clamped down hard on his lip when Ignis flipped the light switch, then looked up at Gladio.

When he spoke, his voice was as stuttered as ever. "U-um... but what if... what if he does something reckless and gets himself k-killed?" That came out in a croak. He didn't even want to entertain it. It was out there now, though.

"Wh-"

Prompto didn't let Gladio's interruption stop him. "I mean... I mean, it would probably feel worse, right? If you didn't talk to him and try to patch things up, and then something really bad happened? You'd... I'd..." He trailed off there, unsure of what else he could say and _incredibly_ nervous at the fact that he'd even said what he had to begin with.

That nervousness only doubled when Gladio stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. That expression on Gladio's face took Prompto by complete surprise, as did the wide-eyed surprise that he saw on Ignis' face when he turned around. For a couple of seconds, Gladio looked like he was going to try and say something, anything. When nothing came out, though, he shook his head and grunted.

"I need some air," he said in a gruff rumble, not even waiting for any kind of reply from Prompto or from Ignis, before he turned on his heel and left the cabin.

After the door swung closed, it was completely silent. Prompto blinked after Gladio out the window as he headed toward the large building in the center of the group that composed the compound. He turned toward Ignis, who looked... well, Prompto wasn't exactly sure. He _was_ sure that he owed Ignis some kind of apology. Gladio too, obviously. But Ignis as well.

Before he could open his mouth, though, he saw Ignis step forward and place a hand on Prompto's shoulder, pulling him in for a hug. "Thank you," Ignis said.

Prompto's eyes widened. "F-for what?" he asked, raising an arm to hug Ignis back.

"That is something that Gladio has needed to hear for a long time. I've said something somewhat similar. As have Iris, Luna, Nyx, Crowe... all of us. I think he's so used to hearing us say things like this that it's become one of those things he merely tunes out. Hearing it from you, however... it may have the desired effect." Ignis released Prompto from the hug, then glanced out the window. Concern flashed over his expression. "Would you be terribly offended if I went to the lounge to check on him? I know that he wouldn't do anything foolish, but-"

It wasn't even a question. Prompto shook his head no and smiled a weak and nervous smile. "No, I wouldn't be offended. Can you tell him that I... I didn't mean to make him mad and-"

"You didn't," Ignis shook his head, squeezing Prompto's shoulder. "You made him think. Don't apologize for that. I need to... capitalize on it, I suppose, for lack of a better word."

Prompto nodded, glancing out the window. "Still. Just let him know that I wasn't trying to upset him?" Whether or not Gladio was mad, he was definitely upset somehow, and Prompto hadn't been trying to do that. Not really, anyway.

With a nod, Ignis turned toward the door. "If you feel your knee can handle it, I suspect that Lunafreya or Nyx will know where Noctis is." Before Prompto could even reply, he was directing Prompto toward Lunafreya and Nyx's cabin—one beyond the one that Aranea would be sharing with Cindy—and hurrying out the door to follow Gladio into the rec area.

That left Prompto alone to consider whether or not he wanted to seek Noctis out. It was the easiest question he had ever asked himself in his life. Their bags went completely abandoned on the floor as Prompto turned and limped toward the door and out, then toward Lunafreya and Nyx's cabin. If Ignis was right, if he _had_ managed to convince Gladio to talk to Noctis, then he at least wanted to talk to Noctis about it, to prepare him. Maybe if he managed to mend the fence between Noctis and Gladio, he'd feel like some of the debt that he owed Noctis was repaid. Some. Not even close to all. But it was a start.


	22. Memory

"Only if you're sure you're ready, lad," Weskham's voice cut through the silence as they stood in front of the only closet in his dad's old cabin that hadn't been cleared out. "By no means do you _have_ to do this. It may be easier to come back and do it later."

Cor spoke his agreement. "Yeah, don't do it if it's gonna set you back, Noct. You're doing a lot better lately. If you think seeing what's in there is gonna make it harder, don't do it." Despite his words, he was right beside Noctis, staring at the door handles like he wanted to brush past Noctis and open the door himself.

Whatever Noctis had been expecting when Cor and Weskham asked for his help with a task, this wasn't it. He definitely hadn't expected to go from feeling awkward in regards to Gladio, to... well, this. He'd expected heavy lifting—though jobs like that usually went to Gladio or Nyx, so that should have been the first clue that it wasn't that—or some sort of assignment that would take him off the compound. To clean out the last of his dad's things from the cabin, though, was very low on his list of expectations. He'd thought that Cor and Weskham had cleaned the place out back before the group had left a year ago. They'd been rushed, though; hurrying to pick up their entire lives and move them miles away from a place that was filled with so much fresh pain.

The pain had mostly faded. Moments like this, though, Noctis felt like he was waking up in the hospital all over again, having to be reminded that his dad was gone. That it was his fault. Still, as he looked at the closed closet door, he couldn't help but want to see what was left. It was probably just clothing, maybe a couple of swords or something. He turned and glanced over his shoulder, shaking his head no. Maybe it would set him back. Maybe he _would_ feel worse. That didn't stop the fact that he wanted to see it. He reached out and touched the door handle, but before he could open the door, there was a knock on the main door of the cabin.

"Weskham? Cor? Is Noctis with you?" Luna's voice rang out through the cabin as she peered into the screen door behind the main door.

Noctis turned his head toward the familiar voice, his hand still on the doorknob like it was frozen there. "I-I'm here," he murmured, his voice quiet. So quiet, in fact, that he wondered if she could hear from where she stood.

In that instant, he wondered if he should invite her in or not. Luna had heard enough of his whining over his dad. She didn't need to hear more. It wasn't even as though he was here alone. Weskham and Cor were here, too. He shook his head hard, snapping himself out of it. It didn't matter. Luna had just as much right to be here as he did. It wasn't a huge deal; just cleaning out a closet. So, he cleared his throat and spoke up, trying to push back the emotion from his voice.

"C'mon in, Luna," he finally said. His voice was embarrassingly croaky, but he'd said it.

He heard the door squeak open and then smack closed—the door in this cabin had always been noisy; Noctis remembered accidentally waking his dad up after a long night of hunting, trying to get the fish bait that he'd left on the table—and turned his head to see Luna walking glancing between the three men in the room. Her hand lifted to push a few stray pieces of hair from her face. "What's going on here?" she asked.

Cor sighed, running a hand over his face. "Wesk and I were set to move in here. Started bringing our stuff in and everything. Then we open the closet to find that all of Regis and Clarus' clothes and some other stuff is still in there." He paused and glanced at Noctis.

"There were many things that Regis told us, in the event of his death, he wanted Noctis to have," Weskham explained. "Many that were unaccounted for when he did..." he paused, trailing off, before picking back up again, "many that are still unaccounted for. We think that they may be in here, and we want to ensure that Noctis gets them."

Luna was quiet for a couple of seconds, then she walked over to take a seat on top of a box. "Did you not check the closet yourselves first?" she asked.

Weskham shook his head no. "It..." He hesitated, glancing over to Cor.

"It's Noct's right. Some of the missing items, his dad wanted Noct to have specifically. We wanted to," Cor admitted. "For a lot of reasons, not the least of which was making sure that it wouldn't hurt Noct. But Regis asked us specifically to... to let Noct see them first." When Noctis turned and looked at Cor, he saw an expression he wasn't used to. He looked conflicted.

Cor was usually a pretty gung ho person. When he wanted to do something, when he believed it, he did it. That something was making him hesitate, it must have been pretty serious. That gave Noctis contemplative pause. There was a chance that the 'unaccounted for things' that Cor and Weskham were talking about weren't even in here, so why was it a big deal for Noctis to do this? He scratched a hand through his hair and turned back to the door. If Cor and Weskham were so worried about whatever this was 'setting Noctis back,' maybe it was better if it wasn't in here. His lips drew into a deeper frown at that thought. No. If his dad thought that whatever this was, was important enough for him to have, then he wanted to have it. With that thought in mind, and before Cor, Weskham, or Luna said anything else to distract his mind, he pulled the closet door open.

It was messy. Messy to the point that his dad would have hated it if he was alive. In the corner, there was a large and winding spider web that took up over a square foot of the closet. So many of his dad's clothes still hung. Suits and ties and things that he never really got the chance to wear very often. Theirs had never really been much of a suit and tie lifestyle. Most of the nicer clothes his dad owned were from back in Insomnia, when Noctis was a kid. Sure, he'd been a hunter back then, but he'd always kept suits for date nights with Noctis' mom. These were here, he assumed, for dates with Clarus. Alongside the suits and ties were more casual clothes, some rugged clothing for hunting, too. Just the sight of his dad's clothes, though, brought old and fond memories flooding back.

They were simple memories; memories of spending time with his dad around the compound. Memories of missions gone right with his dad. Times when he felt like they could take on literally any daemon and be just fine.

A bitter laugh, just barely forcing back a choked sob, was Noctis' only outward indication of those thoughts. "Looks like... it looks like it's just clothes, Wesk." His voice was alarming in its shakiness, even to him. Trying to ignore that, he turned back around and looked into the closet. At the floor. At the ceiling. On the shelves. "If there's something I'm supposed to be seeing, I-"

On the top shelf, looking completely inconspicuous, but also completely conspicuous, was a decorative box. The box was about the size of a kid's shoe box; less than a foot on each side, and half a foot tall, made of silver, adorned with sapphires, and engraved with his mother's name alongside a myriad of intricate designs. He recognized this box from his childhood. It always sat on his mother's dresser back in Insomnia. Her jewelry box. As far as Noctis knew, that was left behind in Insomnia when it fell. Did that mean that his dad had gone back for it? How it got there didn't matter, he guessed. He got up onto the tips of his toes and reached up, around the spider web, to grab the box.

"Ah," Weskham's voice filled the room. "So, that's where that went."

Luna tilted her head to the side, watching as Noctis turned to face the three of them with the box. "What is it?" she asked.

After a beat, Cor beckoned for Noctis to join him where he sat at the small card table in the corner of his dad's old room. Sweeping dust from the table with his arm and pulling a chair for Noctis to sit, he breathed a soft note. "I'm actually glad you're here, Luna. Though I think Iggy, Gladio, and Iris should be here for this, too."

"Wait, why?" Noctis asked, arching his eyebrow as he sat in the chair and set the box on the table.

After a couple more beats of silence, Weskham stepped forward and placed a hand on Noctis' shoulder. "Because, lad. There are things that all of you need to know. Things that we've kept secret for far too long," he explained.

Noctis was, well, confused was an understatement. Everything spun in his head; emotions mixed with old information mixed with new information, and he found himself staring at the sapphire swirl pattern on top of the jewelry box. Things that Weskham and Cor kept secret. He knew that they'd been hunting for a lot longer than he had, obviously. They had to have seen things that Noctis couldn't even imagine. Still, finding out that there were things that the group didn't know? Well, it was surprising, and a bit troubling. Not because he didn't trust them, because he knew that they'd never keep anything from the group without good reason. Good and _huge_ reason. It was more because of the fact that, no matter what they learned about their lives and why circumstances were as they were, there were always new things. Always more questions.

Weskham encouraged Noctis to open the lid of the box by pointing at it. "Go ahead and look inside, first."

Sliding the box closer to him, Noctis pulled a deep breath in through his nose. The lid was sealed with a small hook, which Noctis made quick work of unlatching. Pushing back the top of the box, he glanced down at the items inside. Most of it was composed of old photographs. Photographs of Noctis' mother with Gladio and Iris' mom, photos of the two moms with the two dads, as well as Luna's mom. A photo at the top of the pile, though, surprised Noctis more than anything. It was of the original generation hunting team. Noctis' dad, Gladio's dad, their moms, Luna's mom, Weskham, Cor... and a final face that Noctis didn't expect at all.

"Cid used to hunt with you?" Noctis asked in amazement.

Luna sat in the last chair, beside Noctis, and glanced at the photo. Her eyes went to the photo, a wistful smile crossing her face at the sight of her mother. Then, she glanced back to Cor and Weskham. "I didn't know you knew Mr. Sophair," she mused.

Laughing a breath of laughter, Cor nodded. "Someone had to make sure our old tech was Twenty-Five compatible," he pointed out. "Plus, you wouldn't know it, but he's a damn good shot."

"One of the best I've ever seen," Weskham agreed.

Noctis arched an eyebrow. "Why didn't you tell us?"

With a shrug and a tilt of his head, Cor simply answered, "Cid asked us not to. Thought you guys would ask him to hunt again, I think. Or at least to come to Lestallum with us. He's happy in Hammerhead, though."

Weskham nodded. "Aranea seems to have figured it out, though. She picked up on it just as quickly as Ignis did." He chuckled softly. "She's really quite intelligent." He was clearly impressed, if his tone was any indication.

Cid didn't want to hunt anymore. That made sense. Cid was significantly older than Cor and Weskham. Older than Noctis' dad and Clarus would have been if they were still around, too. As Noctis looked back down at the pictures, the smile on his face faded just slightly at the look on his dad's face. His mom, too. Everyone in the picture, really. Even with all the chaos and fighting around them, they looked happy. Together. Like a family, just like their team now. Someday, would their group be down to two? Everyone dying one by one, until just two were left to coordinate for the next generation? And then the next generation after that, and so on and so on until... well, Noctis didn't know when? For the rest of time, maybe.

Shaking that thought off before it really had a chance to take root, Noctis turned to look at Cor. "Was that what you wanted to tell us?" he asked.

Cor looked at Noctis, concern spreading across his face, but he shook his head no. "There's more in the box than photos, Noct," he explained, pointing at a couple of other items that were stored in the far corner of the box.

In fact, one of them just barely stuck out underneath a few other photographs. Noctis pushed the photos over a bit, to reveal three small trinkets. The first he saw made him strangle back a sob. A godawful ugly fishing lure that Noctis made for his dad as a child, back when he was just learning how to fish and how to make lures. Knowing what he knew now, he knew that it would never catch any actual fish. But his dad kept it. For over a decade, his dad kept it. He breathed in a combination of laughter and barely-concealed tears, as he lifted the lure from the box. This wasn't the secret either, Noctis knew that much. His dad's sentimentality wasn't a secret at all. He brushed his thumb over the bright purple chocobo feathers that stuck out of the end of the lure, and blinked. _It's my lucky lure,_ his dad always said.

As he forced the emotion back even further—he was done crying over this, he vowed—he looked at the other two items in the box. Honestly, he wasn't sure which one surprised him more. The first was a ring. A ring that his dad always wore. It was black on the outside and gold on the inside, with a design of a figure holding a clear crystal in the middle. He picked it up and looked it over. "Every time I asked my dad about this ring, he said that it was a family heirloom," he murmured.

"It was," Weskham answered. "He had it enchanted when he was young, to protect your mother, and now to protect you. Though I don't imagine your father suspected that you would ever have an aeon. That crystal in the center is an augmented Hour Twenty-Five crystal." After a long pause, he added, "it will strengthen your aeon."

Noctis turned his head sharply to look at Weskham. "Wait... I... you... you said..." Weskham had mentioned aeons, hadn't he? Did that mean that Weskham _knew_ about aeons before Noctis summoned Bahamut? Did that mean that his _dad_ had known about aeons? He struggled for a moment, trying to come up with a way to ask.

It seemed like Luna had caught the mention too, though, and she spoke up. "You mentioned aeons, Weskham. Does this mean that Regis had one? Or was it Aulea? You mentioned that the ring protected her before Noctis..."

Cor nodded. "Aulea did. And so did your mother, Luna. And Sophia." He chuckled softly. "Everyone seems to think that Regis and Clarus were the tough fighters. And they were. They were definitely tough as hell. But your moms and their aeons... hard to find a daemon that was tough enough to stand against them." He smiled softly, wistfully and a little sadly.

Except his mom had died. A daemon had been what killed her. Rather than say that aloud, he just stared at the ring in his hand. It was designed to make an aeon stronger, Weskham had said. Would it work on any aeon? Did it have to be Noctis'? His mind instantly went to Prompto and his aeon, but before he could ask, Luna's voice caught his attention.

She glanced into the box, and then over at Noctis. "There's something else in there, too," she pointed out.

Noctis glanced into the box, too, and blinked. What was inside the box... didn't need any explanation. Actually, that wasn't exactly true. It needed a _lot_ of explanation, but the explanation that it needed wasn't one that was easily given. The crystal shard looked just like the one inside his coat pocket. He blinked as he picked it up. It didn't glow, it wasn't warm like his crystal key, but it was like a turned-off blue that matched the blue of Crystal Space. Aside from the warmth and the glow, it looked identical. Did that mean that his father—or, apparently, his _mother_ —had access to Crystal Space when they were alive?

"What is that crystal?" Luna asked.

Weskham watched Noctis for a few seconds, before saying, "It's a broken key to a place called Crystal Space."

At that, Noctis turned and blinked at Weskham in surprise. "You… you know about Crystal Space?" he asked.

Nodding and smiling gently, Weskham said, "by that response, I presume you do as well. Yes. After your mother passed away, your father… I'm not exactly certain how he came into contact with that key. He did, however, and from then on, he received guidance from a spirit in Crystal Space. A spirit that had previously been helping Aulea. The amount that Cor and I know of the place consists merely of what your father told us, but we know that it exists."

Honestly, Noctis couldn't believe his ears. A spirit in Crystal Space. Could it possibly have been Gentiana? He was about to open up and tell Weskham and Cor that he had _been_ to Crystal Space, but he didn't get the chance. In a tone, gentle and quiet but clear enough to be heard, Luna spoke up.

"Why does Crystal Space sound so familiar to me?" she asked. "It feels like I heard it years ago. But I..."

More half-answers turned to full questions, and he was almost positive that if he went to Crystal Space right then, the whole place would be nothing but wisps and he wouldn't be able to see a thing. Luna seemed to know about Crystal Space. Gentiana had been aware of the fact that Luna could sense daemons. Not to mention the fact that Luna sensing daemons, to begin with, was nothing but a mystery. Were Luna and Gentiana connected somehow?

Noctis' eyes hadn't left the crystal in his hand. Just like his, but deactivated. Broken. It had belonged to his father, after his mother passed away. Did that mean that it had belonged to his mother when she'd been alive? He looked up at Weskham and Cor, who were looking at Luna in concern.

"Perhaps you heard Aulea and Sylva talking about it when you were a child?" Weskham offered.

Luna shook her head no. "No, it… it isn't something that I've heard from someone else. I… I just feel like a part of me knows it." She turned to look at Noctis. "Have you met this spirit before?"

Noctis nodded. "Y-yeah, I…"

"What was she like?" Luna asked.

Another question that opened up a dozen more. Noctis had never mentioned that the spirit in Crystal Space was female. Neither had Cor or Weskham. Somehow, Luna knew. It seemed like Cor and Weskham picked up on that, too, because they were just looking at Luna with wide-eyed question in their expressions. They both turned to look at Noctis, waiting for his answer.

At first, Noctis didn't know what to say. After a few seconds, though, he gathered his brain enough to respond with a quiet, "uh... " A few more seconds passed, and he said, "she's very kind. Very helpful. She said that Crystal Space is a place between dream and reality, and outside of time and space. A place for reflection."

Luna looked wholly confused, and she stared down at her hands. "I don't know why any of this sounds familiar to me," she confessed.

In his head, Noctis made a point to ask Gentiana about it the next time he went to Crystal Space. He stared back down into the box, all the confusion, all the sadness that came with remembering his dad, culminating into a hard blink to stave back tears that threatened to bubble to the surface. He shook it off. He'd dealt with his grief. It was stupid, feeling like he was going to break down right then. He just needed air. A glance out the window told him that it was almost night time. The sun wasn't down yet, but it was close.

"I... I need to go for a walk."

Weskham shook his head. "It's almost nightfall, Noctis. You shouldn't-"

He knew that he shouldn't. Of course he did. He _also_ knew that he didn't really want to be where everyone else was when this barely-holding levee of emotion broke. Especially not Prompto. Prompto didn't need to see him a mess. "I'm just... I promise, Wesk. I'll only go to the river. D-dad put daemon lights on a path there. Remember? So... so I..." There was a barely concealed 'please' in his expression.

Cor and Weskham exchanged a look, then Cor glanced back to Noctis. "Take one of the crystal charged lamps with you for the walk back. And be back before Twenty-Five. We have a job tonight," he told Noctis, his voice equal parts commanding and gentle.

Noctis nodded. With an apologetic glance to Luna—who still looked completely confused by this whole thing—he gathered the box up, put everything back inside, and headed for the door. It closed behind him, and he started toward the small supply shed that connected to the lounge. The crystal lanterns would be in there. Jogging toward the shed, he was surprised to see Prompto coming out of Luna and Nyx's cabin not too far away. Prompto initially waved excitedly at him, but when Prompto caught sight of Noctis' expression, the excitement quickly changed to something else. Concern. Confusion. It made Noctis opt to stare down at the door handle, instead of looking at Prompto, as he reached for it.

Prompto's voice showed Noctis how close was then. Still several feet away, but close enough to talk in a conversational tone and still be heard. "Hey Noct," he murmured. "Are... are you okay?"

The answer to that was an obvious no, but he really didn't want Prompto to worry about him. "I'm..." He grabbed one of the lanterns, holding it in one hand and tucking the box under the other arm. "I'll be alright." He didn't want to lie. He'd never really been any good at lying. But he didn't really want to tell the truth either.

"O-okay," Prompto answered, glancing down at the ground.

It was scary, how much sway his new friend's expression had over him. He wanted to be alone; wanted to go somewhere to try and get over this stupid wave of emotion so that he could face his friends again. Then, the second he saw Prompto, the second Prompto showed the slightest hint of insecurity and sadness, all of his plans crumbled to the ground. Not only did he want to make Prompto happy, but maybe... he didn't want to be as alone as he thought he wanted to be. Raking his teeth over his lip, he pushed the door closed with his foot and glanced back up at Prompto.

As blue puppy eyes looked on him with a mixture of concern and hope, Noctis asked, "wanna come with me? I'm going for a walk."

Prompto's eyes went to the horizon, likely taking in the sun as it got closer to setting. He looked back at Noctis and raked his teeth over his lip. "Are you sure we'll be okay?" he asked.

Nodding, Noctis held up the lantern. "It's crystal charged. Like our tech and the the daemon lights in cities. Keeps daemons away. And the place we're going has a daemon light there, too," he explained, trying to sound nonchalant but falling short. "Plus, worse comes to worse you can summon Carbuncle to walk us back, right?" At the very least, he managed a tiny smile at that.

A smile that only grew a little bit more when Prompto laughed softly in response. "That's true," he agreed. "Sure. Where are we going?"

Noctis tilted his head toward the street, before he started walking. "The river where I usually fish. Where my dad and I used to fish." He scratched a hand through his hair and glanced at Prompto. "Um... heads up. I might not... I might not be the best company. I..." He sighed. "I just... might not." Especially if he couldn't even tell Prompto _why_ he wouldn't be.

"That's okay," Prompto answered, a gentle smile on his face as he jogged to catch up to Noctis. "I... um... I like your company. Even when it's 'not good.'"

A ghost of a weak smile crossed Noctis' face. He'd see if Prompto still felt that way after he saw Noctis moping over a stupid silver box. Still, moping with company was always better than moping alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still working on the Sims compound thing! Ran into some tech trouble with my Sims game and had to start from scratch. BUT IT IS COMING, I PROMISE.


	23. Crack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY DID THE THING! Here's the [hunter compound](http://heyjealousyyy.tumblr.com/post/163138327695/in-the-dark-i-see-hunter-compound-sims-design) guys! I MEANT TO GET AN OVERHEAD SHOT BUT I AM DUMB AND ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE WORLD. IDK if I have it in me to make the whole thing over again, though...
> 
> Enjoy! ♥

The river was beautiful. Crystalline, clear, and flowing at a gentle trickle. It was a sort of wooded area, with lots of fallen trees and large rocks to sit on. Prompto sat on one of those fallen trees, with Noctis a foot or so to his right, with a silver box in his lap, his elbows on his knees, and his chin in his hands. Prompto remembered, earlier that day, that Lunafreya and Nyx had mentioned him being sad commonly. It seemed almost prophetic, in a horrible way, that Prompto had been talking with Noctis' friends about how sad he was or wasn't earlier that day, and here he was now, looking completely devastated. Noctis stared blankly out at the flowing river water, and it looked like his mind was simultaneously turned off, and going a million miles an hour.

Prompto wanted to ask him what was wrong. He wanted to push his luck; to intrude and ask Noctis why he was feeling so miserable. Did it have to do with Gladio? Or did it have to do with whatever task Weskham and Cor had asked him to do? The silver box on Noctis' lap was the only thing Prompto could see that could possibly be causing him to be this miserable.

As the sun edged ever closer to the horizon, Prompto turned his head away from Noctis and watched as the moon peeked up and started its rise. The sky darkened, and the daemon light that hung from the tree right behind them turned on, bathing the whole area in a bright, almost fluorescent looking glow. The bright light rippled on the water, catching Prompto's attention. Before he'd even realized what he was doing, he'd raised his camera and snapped a picture of the light reflecting from the river. Flipping through his settings in an instant, he found the perfect one to deal with the contrast in lighting, and snapped two more pictures.

It was the camera that seemed to snap Noctis out of his daze. He turned to look at Prompto, his downturned lips twitching just slightly. It wasn't a smile—not even close—but it was a slight movement. He didn't speak, but the way he looked at Prompto was almost as though he was expecting something. Hoping for something, maybe.

What was he hoping for, though?

A few more seconds of silence and Prompto glanced back toward the river. Something that had happened with Weskham and Cor had him looking just like the sad person that Lunafreya and Nyx had described him as earlier. Prompto wanted to ask. Less than that, actually. He just wanted to wrap an arm around Noctis' shoulders and tell him that whatever it was, was okay. That was the downside of a friendship that was still relatively new. Prompto didn't know what the boundaries were. It wasn't like they hadn't hugged before. It had happened more than once, actually. He didn't want to push it, though; didn't want Noctis to think that he was clingy, or anything.

While he was deep in his own thoughts, the sound of a gentle shuffle caught his attention from where Noctis sat. He turned his head to see his friend taking the box from his lap in one hand and looking it over. Noctis raked his lip over his teeth and reached his hand over, holding the box out to Prompto.

"Do... do you want to see?" The expression on Noctis' face was still sad, but now there was a new mix of emotions there. Nerves. "This? The box, I mean?"

At first, all Prompto did was blink. He hadn't asked. He _wouldn't_ have asked. Noctis' private business was Noctis' private business, after all. With the offer on the table, though, he found his curiosity getting the better of him. He reached his hand out, but stopped right before he reached the box. "I... A-are you sure it's okay?" He didn't want to seem nosy, either.

Noctis, too, hesitated. He glanced at Prompto's hand and then at the box, then after a few seconds pause, he nodded. "Yeah," he murmured. "Go ahead. I-if you want."

While Prompto wasn't totally sure, he didn't want to turn away from the offer either. He took the box, glancing at it as he set it down in his lap. "Whose was this?" he asked, reaching forward and running his fingers along the design. It was an intricate weaving of engravings. A name was engraved in the top; 'Aulea Lucis Caelum.' His mother. Prompto winced. Suddenly, he regretted asking the question.

"My mom's," Noctis explained, his tone dismal; sad. "Well, it was my mom's first. My dad must've gone back to Insomnia for it after it fell. He'd been using it for awhile, I think."

Nodding, Prompto raked his teeth over his lip. "I... I kind of realized that after I asked," he confessed. "I asked Lunafreya and Nyx about your parents." He paused and winced, turning to look at Noctis. "I... that probably sounds way, way creepier than I meant it to, but-"

"Nah," Noctis answered, and when Prompto glanced over to look, Noctis was actually smiling. It was just a slight smile, but it was a smile all the same. "I don't mind. Not like they're around to speak for themselves, y'know?" Just as quickly as it had appeared, the smile was gone. Noctis folded his hands in his lap and looked back out at the water.

Prompto didn't know what to say to that, so he just stared at the silver box in his hands. The patterns—Tenebraen sylleblossoms made with sapphires—were really well-carved. Prompto had never really seen a sylleblossom in person or anything, but from the pictures he'd seen, they looked accurate. It wasn't fair for Noctis not to have his parents around. He deserved better. He deserved way better than having to resort to trinkets and memories to see his parents; to feel their presence. It could have simply been the box itself that was upsetting Noctis like he was. It belonged to his mother, after all, and the woman had been dead since he was a kid. Prompto had a feeling, though, that it was what was on the inside. His hand moved, fingertips brushing against the latch.

"Can I?" Prompto asked, casting a sidelong glance at Noctis. The crack in his glasses obstructed his friend from his vision a little bit, but Prompto didn't need to see him to know what he looked like. His image was practically emblazoned on Prompto's mind's eye at this point.

When Noctis' only reply was an agreeing hum, Prompto glanced at the latch, before pulling it back and opening the box. The inside was lined with velvet that matched the sapphires, but that only held Prompto's attention for a couple of seconds. Immediately, when he caught sight of a photo on the top of a stack, his eyes blinking in disbelief. "Is... is that _Cid_?" he asked, his eyes going wide as his free hand found the picture to take it out of the box.

Noctis' responding laugh was more genuine that Prompto expected him to be able to give. "Yeah," he answered. "Crazy, right?"

Even before he turned to glance at Noctis, Prompto could feel the atmosphere in his immediate vicinity change. When he _did_ look, though, he felt his heart leap up into his throat. Noctis had slid over, closing the foot or so of space between them, and was now as close as he could be without actually leaning against Prompto. It was almost like Prompto's heart was trying to jackhammer its way out of his chest. The last time they'd been this close... well, Prompto would never forget what had almost happened. It wouldn't happen again, though. There was no way.

Instead of focusing on what would never happen, Prompto watched him for a second, taking in his features as he glanced down into the box. His lips were still turned down into a frown, and his eyes still looked bleary, like he'd been holding back tears for awhile. Prompto could still plainly see the purple marks on Noctis' neck, too. From his daemon self. Prompto cringed at the thought, then turned his attention back down into the box.

"So, is that your dad, then?" Prompto pointed a man in the picture who looked alarmingly like Noctis. Just similar enough for it to be obvious, but just different enough for Prompto not to think it was Noctis himself.

With a nod, Noctis pointed at the others in the picture. "And that's my mom. That's Clarus—Gladio and Iris' dad—and their mom, Sophia. And Luna's mom Sylva. And that's Weskham and Cor."

Prompto chuckled a soft laugh. "So, your dad knew Cid. And Weskham and Cor did, too. Explains why they acted so buddy-buddy at Hammerhead," he murmured. Prompto knew that Cid had a history with hunting. He was the one who'd taught Prompto to shoot when he'd expressed a desire to learn to hunt, and through all of his teaching, he kept telling Prompto that he was sharing 'old hunter tricks.' So, it made sense. It was just insane to think about.

Noctis hummed an affirmative answer. "We almost could've been friends way younger," he muttered.

Huffing a humorless laugh, Prompto nodded. "Would've been nice if I could've known you younger. Do you think we'd still be friends?" The question escaped before he could really stop it, and instead of looking at Noctis, he opted to look at a couple more of the pictures.

"I think so," Noctis answered. "Some people, I think, are just meant to be in your life."

Meant to be in his life. The fact that Noctis considered _any part of them_ connected in a way that involved destiny made Prompto feel way more special than it had any right to. Heat rose to his cheeks like blood was boiling under his skin. Now, rather than trying to hammer its way out of his chest, his heart was fluttering, stuttering, skipping a beat. It wasn't meant in a romantic way, Prompto was sure, but the thought that Noctis thought that Prompto was meant to be in his life in _any_ way... well, it made him feel way more important than anything else he'd ever done.

A couple of objects caught Prompto's attention—fortunately, too, because he was pretty sure he was about to die from embarrassment—from where they lay strewn about the photos. "What's this?" he asked, reaching into the box to pick up what looked like a fishing lure. A homemade one. 

From beside him, Noctis made a noise that could have been either a hollow note of laughter or a choked back sob. "It's..." he paused, reaching his hand over to brush it along the plume of the purple chocobo feathers that decorated the lure. "It's a fishing lure. I made it when I was like... five. Made it for my dad." His voice was shaky. "Obviously he... he couldn't use it. Fish would swim away screaming after getting one look at that thing," he mused. "But... but he kept it. You know? And when I asked him why he wasn't using it, he..." Another sound, this time closer to choked sob than hollow laughter, "he called it his lucky fishing lure. And he kept it for almost fifteen years. Until... until he died."

Prompto finally turned his head to look at Noctis, and he was surprised to see his friend's eyes shining. He wasn't crying—in fact, he seemed to be going to pretty great lengths _not_ to cry—but he was pretty damn close. If he was holding back for Prompto's sake, Prompto wished that he wouldn't. "You... you must've loved him a lot," Prompto urged, not telling him to let go, but letting him know that it was okay to keep talking, at least.

With a nod, Noctis stared into the box at the photos. "He was my hero. He'd probably be yours too, if you'd gotten the chance to meet him. Smart. Brave. Cool. Nice." Noctis reached into the box and took something else out, holding it tightly in one of his hands. Hiding it, maybe? That was fine. These were his private things. Anything he wanted to keep secret was totally his right. "He wanted to save the world. Y'know? Get rid of Hour Twenty-Five and the daemons and..." A pause, and a shaky breath, "there was so much he wanted to do. But... he never got the chance." 

"What happened to him?" Prompto asked, the question escaping before he had the chance to push it back. Immediately, he cringed with his whole face. His eyes slammed shut and he hissed through his teeth, desperate to shove the question back where it came from.

Just as he was opening his mouth to apologize, though, he heard Noctis exhale a puffed sigh from beside him. "Are you... are you sure you want to know? It's not a pretty story, and..." After a pause, he shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I'm just afraid that if you hear it, you'll... it'll change the way you look at me." The last part was added in a mumble, and when Prompto turned to look at Noctis, he saw that Noctis was staring miserably at his hands.

Prompto honestly didn't think it was possible to change the way he looked at Noctis. Whatever had happened, that didn't change the fact that he was brave, cool, smart, nice... all the things Noctis had said he dad was. "You... I... it won't." He'd _wanted_ to tell Noctis what was in his mind; that Noctis could do _anything_ and Prompto would still think he was perfect. The words didn't come out the way he wanted them to, though. He just had to hope that he hadn't made an idiot of himself. And that Noctis believed him.

As he breathed a sharp huff from his nose—showing that, maybe, he _didn't_ believe Prompto?—he shrugged. "You should probably know anyway." He slid the item in his hand into his pants pocket, then glanced over at a small patch of white flowers near the river.

Noctis smoothed a hand through his hair and then folded both hands together in his lap once more. He stared at his twined fingers and fidgeted just slightly. Prompto could almost sense his hesitation. Raking his teeth over his lip, in a split-second decision, Prompto decided to reach one of his hands over and place it on top of Noctis' two. It was meant to encourage, but what if it was too much? His heart hammered again, nerves about whether or not he'd be pushed away or asked what the hell he was thinking smashing at the walls of his chest. _Too bold. Too brave. You shouldn't have-_

Cutting his thoughts off mid-process, though, Noctis separated his own hands and flipped his palm so it rested against Prompto's. He slid his fingers around Prompto's, locking their hands together and then turning to look at Prompto's face. Maybe it was assuming too much, but Prompto could almost see the question, the "is this okay?" in Noctis' eyes. Though he was pretty sure that his cheeks were going to melt from his face with how red they probably were, Prompto nodded. It was definitely okay. More than okay. Prompto's eyes flicked to their twined hands. When he looked back up at Noctis, Noctis was smiling another weak smile. Weak, but it was there.

After that, he pulled in a deep breath, let it out, and then started telling the story. "My dad and Clarus didn't really take me on hunts with them often. They worked really well on their own. I mean, they did take me sometimes, but it was always small ones, you know? Little things that probably would've been easy for them to wipe out on their own. I jumped at the chance when it came, though. Even if it was just... y'know, a group of goblins or something, it was amazing to see them in action," he stared at the river.

"They weren't even gonna take me on the night it happened," Noctis murmured. "But I begged. I would've been by myself at the compound otherwise, since everyone else was out that night. I didn't want to. You know? Be alone." After a note of not-quite-laughter, he breathed a heavy sigh. "Most of the night was pretty normal. We wiped out a couple hotspots. One just outside of Cauthess and one around the Chocobo Post. It was really fast, too. Dad called me lucky. Ironic, considering."

Noctis turned, glancing sidelong at Prompto for the briefest of seconds, before turning his attention down to their twined hands. "Clarus thought we were doing so well that he suggested we take on a third hunt, and dad was all for it. There was plenty of night left, even before Twenty-Five started, so he said we could definitely be in and out in time. He was sure of it. They both were. Cor was just ready to go along with whatever they had planned, but Weskham was kind of hesitant. Dad and Clarus were having a blast, though. Acting like kids and everything. I think it was that, that finally convinced Weskham to lighten up a little. So, we took on a hunt in Daurell Caverns."

Pausing, Noctis went completely quiet and looked over at Prompto. His eyes shone with unshed tears, but he seemed to be outright _refusing_ to let them go. It was reasonable. In the time that Prompto knew him, Noctis seemed to want to be seen as a pillar for other people; to want to appear strong, no matter what he was feeling. His mind went back to what Luna and Nyx had said earlier that day. Noctis smiled with him. Noctis seemed happy with him. Maybe, but sometimes people needed _not_ to be happy, too. As much as Prompto wished that he could be strong enough for Noctis to lean on, to let down the walls with, he understood the hesitance. It was a big deal, and Prompto probably didn't ooze reliability. Especially not to someone as reliable as Noctis was.

Because of that, instead of telling him to continue, Prompto just squeezed his hand in a gentle attempt at encouragement. He understood, of course, if Noctis still didn't want to continue. It was private. They were new friends. Prompto hoped though, that he would.

Noctis sighed softly. "There were a lot more daemons than we expected. Between the five of us, things were pretty okay, though. Until..." He paused, seeming to choke on his own voice as he blinked his eyes hard to push back emotion. "Until they weren't. We got cornered. A giant, three hecteyes, and two ronin. I'm not even sure how it happened, really." He took in a shaky breath that made his whole body heave and shudder just slightly.

"One minute I was fine, the next minute I was on the ground. A ronin got me. Across my back. Right from my shoulder blade to my hip."

Prompto swallowed thickly. "I saw the scar," he admitted. "Earlier today. When we were in the motel and you were... before-" a pause—now wasn't the time to bring up the near-kiss, after all, "-before Cindy showed up. I wondered..."

A flash of surprise crossed Noctis' face. A humorless laugh escaped and he nodded. "Can't believe I didn't think of that. I don't... no one knows about it, I don't think. Not even Cor and Weskham know how bad it really was. Just me and the doctor in Meldacio. And you now. They know I got hurt, but not how bad it was. How... how I almost died. But you..." He trailed off, not finishing his sentence, but glancing sidelong at Prompto.

But he, what? Prompto swallowed nervously, wondering with all of his being what the end of that sentence could be. What made him different from others, that Noctis forgot to hide what he usually hid? Even this conversation was proving that true, and Prompto thanked his lucky stars. He didn't ask; didn't look the gift horse in the mouth. He _did_ have one question though.

Pushing against his internal wall, Prompto spoke up. "Why didn't you tell them?"

Noctis hummed a negative answer, glancing miserably back down at the grass. "It wouldn't be fair. I didn't want them to freak out over me. I mean... my dad and Clarus... they..." His voice trailed off. "I... I wasn't the one they needed to worry about." He bit his lip. "You won't tell them, will you? It's not like it even matters now. I'm healed. Completely, you know? S-so..." As he spoke the last bit, his voice was frenzied; desperate to keep his secret.

Prompto glanced at Noctis in surprise. All this time, he'd been hiding an injury that had threatened his life. He'd recovered on his own, probably hunting the whole time. Now, Prompto was the only one who knew how bad it really was. "I... no, of course not. I won't." As much as he wanted to, as much as he thought that maybe Noctis _deserved_ to have someone fuss over him, to comfort him and tell him that everything would be okay... if that ended up having to be Prompto? Well, that was okay. "What... what happened after it got you?" he asked, surprising himself with the words.

Shrugging his head to the side, Noctis blinked hard again. As Prompto watched, he could see him finally losing the battle with the tears. "The daemons went _insane_. Like someone hit a damn button or something. They freaked. Started charging us from all directions. I don't know why. Wesk and Cor _still_ can't figure out why," he explained, his voice shaking. "I couldn't do much of anything. I was bleeding really, really bad. Bleeding to death, I was pretty sure. I could move and everything, but... but I couldn't stand. Dad hurried over to protect me and Clarus hurried to protect dad. And me, I guess. They were fighting the giant and it knocked them both back with a swing, right over t-to the other ronin. It got them both..."

"And... after that, the daemons went even _crazier_. Dad and Clarus were bleeding pretty bad. I remember hearing dad say 'I can't move,' and Clarus hobbling over to his side to... to try and protect him, but there were so many daemons that it was pointless." Tears were rolling steadily down Noctis' cheeks now, and he raised the hand not holding Prompto's, wiping his eyes with the back side of it. "I tried to crawl over, but dad saw me. He told Cor to grab me and run. Cor argued, but Clarus stepped in and... and got him to listen."

The voice Noctis used when he spoke next was brittle; wobbly and weak. It was all throat, and sounded almost like he was trying to internalize the words while speaking them at the same time. "And the last thing I saw before I passed out was... was the ronin slashing Clarus' stomach and then stabbing my dad." The hand not holding Prompto's was squeezing tightly closed, fingernails digging into palms, as he broke down in convulsive sobs.

Noctis breathed a soft and shaky breath, then shrank down a little bit, almost like he was trying to hide. Prompto was at a loss for a second. For so long, Noctis had been holding all of this back, to himself, to the point that now that the wall was finally crumbling, Noctis was crumbling, too. With his free hand, Prompto moved the silver box to sit on the fallen tree beside him. Then, without ever releasing Noctis' hand, he pushed himself to his feet. His knee protested, still sore from the injury and the walk to the river, but he ignored it. Planting both feet on the ground, he tugged gently on Noctis' arm, encouraging him to stand.

Bleary blue eyes looked up at Prompto in confusion, but he did what Prompto said, getting to his feet. Prompto finally released his hand, before reaching his arms out and pulling Noctis to him in a hug. He felt his friend tense in his arms, before finally relaxing and wrapping Prompto in a desperately clinging hug, crying against his shoulder. Moisture leaked through Prompto's shirt and to his shoulder, but he didn't care. Noctis could soak the shirt if he needed to. A combination of the desire to be there for Noctis and the importance he felt at the fact that Noctis was relying on him had Prompto wanting to do anything to help. A shirt was a minimal sacrifice, and it wasn't even like tears would ruin it.

"My dad was... he was so much better than everyone at this, you know?" he murmured against Prompto's shoulder. "I mean... he shouldn't have died. I spent the whole next couple of months wishing that I died instead. I still do sometimes..."

Prompto tensed at those words, the thought making tears spring to his own eyes. "No," he countered with a shake of his head. The way Noctis tensed when he spoke was a little strange, but he didn't let it stop him. He hugged Noctis, speaking against the fabric of his t-shirt. "I-I mean... I'm glad you didn't die. I'm not glad your dad died, obviously, but you... if you died... I'd be stuck with my dad still. And even though I had Aranea and Cindy, I'd still feel alone. I wouldn't even be _alive_ , Noct."

Pulling back from the hug, Noctis met Prompto's eyes for a second. "But it's my fault he's dead," he spoke, his voice a shell of what it usually was. There was no confidence. No certainty at all.

"No, it isn't," Prompto insisted. "It's the daemons. Whatever made them go insane. It's not your fault, Noct, okay? P-please don't wish you were dead. If you were... if you weren't here, I wouldn't know what it felt like to have a best friend."

Noctis blinked a couple of times, his eyes wet and his cheeks stained with moisture. "Best friend?" he asked.

At first, Prompto didn't know how to reply. Yes, but also no. Noctis was definitely his best friend. That wasn't it, though. Noctis was the only person Prompto had ever known who could make his heart skip a beat with a smile; the only person who made Prompto's knees weak just by being in his space. So, while Noctis was _definitely_ his best friend, he was also head over heels, heart to ground, hopelessly and irretrievably in love. Already. Now wasn't the time to say that, though, so Prompto just nodded his head.

"Yeah," he answered instead. "And I don't want my best friend to blame himself for something that couldn't possibly have been his fault, okay? Please?"

The expression on Noctis' face was hard to read. Prompto couldn't say that he knew Noctis well enough to know his every expression, anyway, but this one was difficult. There were layers. Sadness, self-blame was _definitely_ still there, but Prompto didn't expect it to be gone overnight. Ever, really. But definitely not overnight. There was also the tiniest hint of what was in his expression when they almost kissed earlier. Behind that, too, was the tiniest bit of happiness.

In a voice that was still a little bit wobbly, Noctis answered, "I'll try. But only because my best friend asked me to."


	24. Reconciliation

Prompto was amazing.

Noctis realized that—or, more like reiterated it to himself—as they sat at the river until just past ten at night, talking and listening to everything each other had to say. And Noctis told him everything. About the fight with Gladio that still had them on the outs until that day; the fight that was the reason why everything was so awkward between them. About how Ignis and Luna had both slapped him that day—and how glad he was that Prompto hadn't slapped him, too—for expressing how he wished that he'd died in his dad's place. He also told Prompto about everything that he'd just discussed with Weskham, Cor, and Luna. How his mom had an aeon and about Crystal Space.

In his whole life, Noctis had never known anyone like Prompto before. Everything that Noctis was saying, no matter how insane, no matter how out there it was, Prompto listened and believed him. When Noctis spoke of Crystal Space and showed Prompto the two crystals, the active one and the inactive one, Prompto just took his words as absolute truths. For three-and-a-half hours, they just talked. Prompto told Noctis all about growing up in Hammerhead. He spoke of going to school as a kid, of how he was a chubby child and how the other kids bullied him and pushed him around, until he befriended Cindy in middle school. He explained that, until he met Cindy, he really didn't have anywhere that he felt like he was safe. His father was cruel, the kids at school were cruel, he said that he didn't really have any friends because he was too shy.

 _"When I met Cindy, though, that changed. Suddenly I had somewhere I really felt like I belonged. Somewhere to call home. Cid made me feel like a part of their family, and Cindy always treated me like a little brother."_ Prompto went on to explain that, for awhile, he'd even had a pretty big crush on Cindy. Noctis was ashamed of the flash of envy that sprang to mind when he said that. It wasn't like he thought he had any real reason to be jealous. They weren't dating, and Prompto probably didn't see him in the same way he saw Prompto, so it was stupid. Still, knowing that someone like Cindy, someone as nice and smart and close to him as Cindy was, once had his heart? Noctis couldn't help but feel a flare of jealousy.

It was easy enough to shake off, though. Aranea and Cindy were happy together, and had been for "a really long time," according to Prompto. When Prompto told Noctis that he was over his crush and had been for years, it was almost like someone lifted the jealousy from Noctis' shoulders.

They sat on the riverbank for hours, just talking. Much to Noctis' amazement, by the time Cor texted them to come back, Prompto even had him smiling again. Noctis' eyes were still red and puffy, and he was far from happy, but he didn't feel nearly as horrible as he had when Weskham had first shown him his parents' old things. The final straw in the camel's back that put Noctis' mood back on the upswing was a simple image that Prompto put in his head, of Carbuncle riding on Bahamut's back. As they turned the corner to get back to the compound, the portable daemon light still shining bright, Noctis couldn't help but break into a soft laugh, nudging Prompto with his shoulder.

"If their wishes are our wishes... I wonder if we could get them to do that. We should summon them together some night, just to see."

Noctis smirked when Prompto smiled at him, a shy but eager grin, accompanied by an excited nod. "It's kinda weird. I know they can't talk to us or anything, but when I was walking through the mines with Carbuncle, I almost felt like it could understand me. You know? I talked to it about a lot of things; kind of went over the whole night aloud to this little fox nightlight that was lighting my path." He laughed softly to himself. "Hard to feel really alone when there's something like that following you."

It was good, that Prompto hadn't felt alone. Noctis really was glad. A tiny piece of him still felt guilty, despite the fact that Prompto was mostly okay. It was hard to believe that just the night before, he'd been through hell, and he already seemed okay; like his normal self. It just cemented how amazing he was in Noctis' mind. Prompto was brave like the hero he seemed to think Noctis was. He was way, way stronger than he gave himself credit for. The slight limp in his step and the peek of ace bandage from the neckline of his shirt in the back was a reminder of what had happened, though. Refusing to allow himself to be dragged back down into a dismal mood, Noctis willed himself to stop thinking about _that_ , and decided to focus on the good part. Prompto's aeon.

"Carbuncle is pretty cute," Noctis mused with a little grin as they rounded the corner to get back into the compound. _Like aeon, like user,_ he added inwardly.

Prompto smirked and nodded. "I wanna say I'm upset that I got something tiny while you have this big hulking dragon, but... honestly, it's kinda hard to be mad when it's as cute as it is," he mused, scratching a hand through his hair and pushing some of the blond from his eyes.

Noctis laughed softly. "I dunno what it says for me that my inner beast or whatever is a giant dragon that can tear daemons in half, that can 'protect or destroy,' or whatever it said. I'm gonna hope it's good though," he mused.

Shrugging his head to the side, Prompto nodded as he glanced at some of the cabins when they passed by. "I can't see you ever actually wanting to destroy. So, I think it says that you're a fierce protector and... and..." He trailed off, and Noctis watched him pull his lower lip into his mouth. He stared ahead of them, at the lounge, then pointed for Noctis to look too.

When Noctis looked up, his heart leaped up into his throat. There, in front of the door, stood Ignis and Gladio. Ignis regarded them with a gentle smile in his expression, while Gladio looked... well, uncomfortable didn't even begin to cover it. He looked awkward. Nervous in a way that Noctis had never seen him before. When Noctis met his eyes, he looked down at the ground, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, before turning to glance at Ignis. Ignis nodded a supportive nod and squeezed Gladio's shoulder, before pressing a kiss to Gladio's cheek, then pushing off from where he stood against the wall to walk toward them.

"We've been waiting for you. Why don't you join me, Prompto?" Ignis asked when he got to where Noctis and Prompto stood. "I can make you a cup of coffee and some dinner in my cabin. Gladio and Noctis need to talk."

Noctis' eyes widened as he looked at Ignis incredulously. A year with barely a word between them that didn't consist of shouting and annoyance, and all of a sudden, Gladio wanted to talk to him. Did Gladio actually _want_ to talk to him, though? Or was this something that Ignis had pushed for? Noctis felt as nervous as Prompto usually did, and he glanced over to his friend for help.

When Prompto didn't rush to his aid, instead nodded at Ignis and placed a hand on Noctis' shoulder, Noctis worry only doubled. "It'll be okay, Noct. Just talk to him. You can do this."

If it was as simple as that, he would have done it a hundred thousand times over by now, just to have their friendship back to the way it was before. As he met Prompto's eyes, though, the pure and unshaken hope that shone back at him was almost flooring. It was _definitely_ enough to make him want to trust that hope, though. Noctis swallowed thickly, looking from Prompto to Ignis, who nodded.

"Trust him, Noct. You may not be as close as you were, but you know that you can always trust him, don't you?" Ignis asked.

And that was definitely true. Whatever their differences were, whatever fights happened between them, Noctis had always trusted Gladio. Noctis _would_ always trust Gladio. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he watched as Ignis guided Prompto off toward his cabin, then turned back to glance at Gladio again. With a deep breath and gritted teeth, Noctis nodded in faux self-affirmation and walked forward. Ignis and Prompto believed that he could do this. He could do this. He would do this.

Any confidence and self-affirmation that he'd built up, though, crumbled to the ground when he looked up at Gladio. He looked up at his old friend, puffy and tired eyes nervous as he examined Gladio's face. Gladio cleared his throat and finally spoke up. "C'mon. Iggy made pasta and... and the dining area's cleared out, so we can talk there." He pushed the door open and held it for Noctis.

With a nod, Noctis followed behind him, already marveling internally at the fact that this was the most Gladio had talked to him in a year. He didn't know where to begin to reply, though. The conversation couldn't be one-sided, he knew that. Knowing where to start, though, where to even _begin_ to apologize to Gladio for everything that he'd done, was impossible. Before he'd even managed to scrape the corners of his mind for something to say, Gladio reached out and clasped a hand to his shoulder. The hand was far firmer than Ignis' had been, but it was still familiar. A comfort. He guided Noctis toward one of the tables in the dining hall and nodded at a full plate that sat next to a half-empty one.

Noctis glanced at the plates. He wasn't sure his stomach would let him eat during this conversation, but he could at least sit in front of the food. So, he set his mom's box on the table and sat down. Flicking his eyes up to meet Gladio's, he pressed his lips together, before releasing them and saying, "Gladio, I-"

"Wait, Noct," Gladio interrupted. And it was a damn good thing, too, because Noctis honestly had no clue what he was going to say. "Can I... d'you mind if I go first? I wanna get all this shit off my chest."

Of course, Noctis didn't mind. In lieu of a verbal answer, Noctis shook his head no as he grabbed the bottle of water that Ignis had set out for him. He may not have been able to eat, but crying like he had at the river had dehydrated him a little bit. Downing a giant pull from the bottle, he pulled in a steadying breath and turned to look at Gladio. What did he want to say?

Gladio didn't sit. He stood, a couple feet away from where Noctis was sitting, pacing in a small two-foot line as he spoke. "Listen. I... I'm not mad or anything." He paused, then shook his head. "Actually, no that's bullshit. I'm pissed. I'm pissed as hell. But not because of our dads anymore." A pause and a sigh, and Gladio scratched his head. "I was real pissed off about that for awhile. I'm not even gonna try to deny that. But I don't blame you. I did, but I don't anymore. Besides, you blame yourself more than anyone else could. I'd try to talk you out of it, but I know how pointless that is. You're too much like me with that type of stuff." Placing his hands on the back of the chair next to Noctis, he glanced down at the table.

"Back then, I'm not even really sure I was pissed at _you_ or pissed at... hell, I don't know what. Probably the fact that we've been at this for so damn long and we still don't know anything." Gladio laughed a humorless laugh and turned his head to Noctis. "I'm still pissed, but I'm pissed about something different now."

As Gladio pushed off from where he leaned against the chair, he sucked in a very deep breath. Turning his back to Noctis, he puffed the breath out in a sigh. "Noct. You gotta stop runnin' off ahead of everyone when we're all there and _perfectly_ capable of helping you." When he finally turned around, his eyes were stern when he looked at Noctis. "You gotta stop... you..." After struggling a couple more times, he shook his head and started over. "I get it. You wanna protect Prompto and everything. But all this takin' off without the rest of us, runnin' to the rescue? You can't keep doing it," he explained.

Want. Was it just a _desire_ to protect Prompto, though? No. It was more than that. He didn't just _want_ to keep Prompto safe. It wasn't just something he wanted, that he would be completely fine if he didn't get. It wasn't like it was okay, if something happened to Prompto. It was a need. If anything happened to Prompto, anything _more_ than what had already happened... Noctis would be crushed. The group would be crushed, sure, but Noctis would be devastated.

With that thought spinning through his mind, Noctis finally decided to speak up. "Gladio, it..." He winced, before turning to look at Gladio in apology, because he'd said that he'd let Gladio say his piece first.

"Go ahead," Gladio encouraged.

Noctis breathed in slowly and looked back down at the table. "It's not just a want, Gladio. It's not just me saying, 'oh, I want to protect him. I'm gonna do whatever I can to protect him because I _want_ to.'" Shaking his head, he turned back to look at the table. "I... it's that I _need_ to, Gladio. If I have to die to protect him... to protect _any_ of you? I'll do it. I need to keep him safe. Like... for some reason, he sees me as some kind of hero. He knows everything that happened, and he still sees me like that. So, it's not a want. I need to protect him. Can't let him down like I have everyone else. I can't... I can't keep losing people I love, okay? I can't. I'm not..."

He wasn't strong enough.

When he glanced back up at Gladio, there was a weird expression on his friend's face. It was still the same as before, serious, frustrated, but he also had an eyebrow arched and a slight knowing smirk quirking one side of his mouth upward. The smirk and the eyebrow quirk disappeared quickly, though. Gladio heaved a heavy and fast sigh, before reaching down to grab Noctis' shoulder again. "Stand up."

Blinking back more tears—honestly, Noctis hadn't been sure that he _had_ more tears until now; he thought he'd cried them all out on the riverbank—he turned to look at Gladio, who lifted his chin to beckon Noctis to stand once more. Though unsure exactly what Gladio had in his mind, Noctis did as he asked (though somewhat hesitantly). Gladio's hand didn't leave his shoulder as he stood. Noctis couldn't help but look up at his old friend nervously. What did Gladio want?

Whatever Noctis expected, having Gladio place a hand firmly on each of Noctis' shoulders and lean down to look him square in the eye was _not_ it. His expression was understanding, but also exasperated. "Noct. Believe me. No one here is gonna judge you for feeling the need to protect someone, alright? We all get it. I think everyone here would do whatever they could to protect everyone else. Hell, _I'd_ throw myself into the damn Disc of Cauthess if I had to, to protect Iggy. To protect you. To protect any _one_ of those guys. Even Prompto, Aranea, and Cindy, and I don't even know them that well."

Another slow inhale, followed by a sharp exhale, and Gladio continued. "When Iggy and me were helpin' Prompto get you guys' stuff to your room, he said something that made me think." He paused and laughed a humorless laugh. "Something Iggy's said to me a hundred thousand times, I think. And Iris and Luna and all the others, too, but it's easier not to listen to them because... well, you know how it is when you hear something a hundred times from someone else. You get used to it. Prompto's a different voice, and a kinda new one at that, so..."

Not giving Noctis a chance to interrupt, Gladio continued. "We live a life where any single one of us could die any night. More likely when that someone runs out ahead of the group," he spoke in a pointed voice, catching Noctis' eye for a minute before continuing, "but that's not the point. If you died any of those times, and you an' me were still fighting... I don't think I'd've ever forgiven myself. I don't know about you, but I'm damn tired of fighting, too. Kinda missed being friends. Missed being brothers." The tone in Gladio's voice was softer than usual. It was still serious, but it was the tone of voice that he hadn't heard from his friend in almost a year.

And it was almost enough to make Noctis cry again. He nodded. "Me too," he answered, barely holding tears back.

Gladio smiled softly, shaking one of Noctis' shoulders. "So, here's what we do. I'm not gonna ask you to stop playin' hero. Can't imagine you'd do it even if I did ask you to. You need to protect Prompto and I get that. Respect the hell outta it, even. That's your dad showin' up in you, through and through. So, I'm not gonna ask you to stop that. But you don't have to do it alone," he murmured. "Alright? Yeah. You've got all the rest of the team behind you, but that's not what I'm sayin' here." He shrugged his head to the side, then stood back up straight.

In half a beat, Gladio pulled Noctis into a near-crushing hug. It was familiar; just like to back in the days when they were brothers. Noctis was stunned for a second, more emotion washing over him in a wave as he tried to decide whether or not he wanted to return the gesture. Wistfulness won out in the end, and he raised his arms to hug Gladio back.

"What I'm sayin'," Gladio continued, his tone quieter, "is that _I've_ got your back. Alright? Iggy's always had your back, and I've always gone where Iggy goes, but it's more than that. Me personally, okay? Don't matter where you're going. Don't matter what help you need. I'm with you and I'll help you get to whatever hell you're gonna throw yourself into. 'Cause you _are_ my brother. And I don't wish you were in our dads' place. I never did. Not even a little bit, Noct."

That was it. That was all it took. More tears sprang to the surface and he found himself breaking down in more desperate sobs against Gladio's shoulder. The past year, he'd wanted nothing more than to hear Gladio tell him that they were still brothers, that Gladio didn't hate him. In his head, he'd played over the scenario a hundred thousand times. He'd figure out what he'd say if the conversation ever happened: he'd tease Gladio about being such a stubborn jerk, Gladio would tease him back because it was definitely a pot-kettle situation. They'd laugh, and then start training together like they always used to.

Now, though, as he hugged Gladio and cried like an idiot, he realized how unrealistic those expectations were. Maybe if it had happened any other night, he'd have been able to pull out a joke, or even anything other than muttering gratitude against Gladio's shoulder. Tonight, though, the emotions he'd been feeling at the river bank were still too raw.

Gladio, though, managed to pull out a soft chuckle. "You haven't snotted on my shirt like this since we were kids, Noct," he teased.

"Shut up," Noctis wobbled out in reply, stifling a laugh through the tears. "It's been... it's been a long night, okay?" He'd gladly take the teasing, though. It was a thousand times better than the alternative.

Smirking, Gladio finally released Noctis from the hug and clasped his shoulder. "So, what did Wesk and Cor want, anyway?" He turned Noctis toward the table, toward his chair. Commanding, but gentle. Just like Gladio had always been.

Noctis suspected that, though he and Gladio were on speaking terms, situations like this—questions like this—would feel awkward for awhile. Noctis' eyes went over to the box, where it sat on the table. Pulling in a slow breath, he slid into the chair and moved the box to the other side of the plate of pasta, closer to Gladio. Sharing this with Gladio was different from sharing it with Prompto. Prompto wasn't connected to the situation, and while he almost knew _more_ than the people who were connected to the situation knew, it was easier to talk to him than it was to talk to Gladio. The repair was still new, and all the information he'd gotten from Weskham and Cor still swirled in his head in a tornado of confusion. Still, he figured that the gesture of sharing may help bridge the gap a little more.

"This was my mom's," Noctis explained, pushing the box toward Gladio with one hand, and then wiping tears from his eyes with the other. "And then my dad's. You can look if you want. There's some stuff that... that might interest you."

As Gladio took the box, Noctis finally turned toward the food on the table and decided that he was actually pretty damn hungry. As he stabbed a couple of pieces of pasta with his fork, he heard the soft metal-scraping-metal sound of Gladio unhooking the latch on the box. While he ate, Noctis told Gladio everything that Weskham and Cor had told him; everything about their parents and aeons, Crystal Space, and Luna's strange connection to Gentiana. Gladio was quiet through all of it, his attention shifting back and forth between the box and Noctis. A couple of times, there was disbelief in his eyes, but by the end of the story, he scratched a hand through his hair and clapped a hand to Noctis' shoulder.

Glancing at a picture of Noctis' mom and Gladio's mom laughing over lunch, Gladio's lips drew down into a frown. "So, our mom's had these aeon things, too, and they still managed to..." He trailed off, blinking and turning to look away from Noctis.

It didn't matter if he didn't finish, though. Noctis knew what he was going to say. They still managed to die. "Aeons aren't all powerful," Noctis explained. "I think... I think you've kinda gotta always have the will to fight for an aeon to help you. Their desires reflect your desires." He raked his teeth over his lip. "Back in Keycatrich, when that daemon Prompto cornered me? I..." He hesitated. Did he really want to make Gladio mad by admitting that he'd lost his will to fight when he was up against Prompto's daemon self?

It seemed like he didn't have to, though. Gladio caught on. "Lost yours?" he asked. His expression was disapproving, but understanding.

Noctis nodded. "Yeah. The things it was saying, and the fact that I still couldn't save Prompto... it made me lose my will. And when that happened, Bahamut disappeared behind me." He stabbed another couple of noodles with his fork and ate them.

The disapproval in Gladio's expression edged closer to sadness, then to a flash of anger. "I wanna ask you to promise not to lose your will to fight again, but I know that's damn near impossible. Make anyone feel hopeless and they lose their will. It's just human nature." He frowned. "Thought that maybe, with that dragon with you, you'd be safer even if you were a reckless idiot. It eased my mind a little. Knowing that they can disappear like that..." There was an unexpected vulnerability in Gladio's tone that surprised Noctis.

"Gladio, I-"

Shaking it off, Gladio shrugged. "Not gonna dwell on it. I do want you to promise me that you're not gonna be a moron anymore, though. Remember what I said, okay? No matter where you're goin', what shit you're draggin' me into, I've always got your back."

Despite everything that had happened that night, Noctis smiled. "If you promise the same. 'Cause you might say that my reckless streak, and my determination to protect people, is from my dad, but I'm pretty sure it's just as much from you." He shrugged his head to the side. "If Specs was in trouble like Prompto's been? There's pretty much nothing that'd stop you from running into the middle of a damn daemon mosh pit to save him. Right?" he asked.

Gladio smirked for a second, giving Noctis the same expression he'd given a few moments ago. An arched eyebrow and a tiny quirked grin. "You're probably right," he answered.

"I'm definitely right," Noctis nodded, eyeing Gladio's expression a little bit suspiciously. "So, if you can promise to rely on me, I promise I'll rely on you, too. Okay?"

The quirked smirk grew into a gentle smile. Gladio reached a hand over to squeeze Noctis' shoulder again. "You bet, Edgelord."

"Oh come on, Gladio. Not you too." Noctis rolled his eyes when Gladio used the nickname that Crowe had always called him.

Gladio nodded. "Absolutely me too. Now, I've got an important question for you." He closed the lid to the box and gently pushed it to the middle of the table. He didn't even wait for Noctis to answer, before busting out in a grin, elbowing Noctis in the side, and continuing. "You aware that you compared your relationship with Prompto to my relationship with Iggy? And that earlier you put Prompto in the category of 'people you love?'"

For a second, Noctis was completely taken off guard. He blinked and turned his head to look at Gladio. When his brain caught up, though, and he realized that he _had_ said that, he quickly snapped his head in the other direction and shook his head no. He could feel the red overtaking his cheeks as he focused on shifting the last couple remaining pieces of pasta around on his plate. "We are not having this discussion right now."

"That's not a no."

Noctis scoffed. "It's not a yes, either!"

Reaching across the space between them, Gladio gently knocked Noctis on the head with two of his knuckles. "Doesn't have to be a yes. Your denial says everything. Don't worry, Edgelord. Your secret's safe with me." He smirked wryly.

It wasn't, Noctis was sure. If Gladio knew, then Ignis would know later. Honestly, though, if being mocked mercilessly for his burgeoning crush on Prompto was the price of having Gladio in his corner again; having his brotherhood with Gladio back? Well, Noctis would take all of the teasing and ribbing for as long as Gladio wanted to give it to him. That was why, despite his annoyance at the teasing to begin with, he couldn't help but feel better than he had in almost a year. Maybe, even with all the weirdness happening around them, they could find a new normal.

Maybe, just maybe, things could be good again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things!
> 
> 1) Don't forget to check out [nicoleiacross](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/pseuds/nicoleiacross)' magnificent side pieces! The [Gladnis one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11412138) has a new chapter out, and it's great! She basically co-wrote this chapter, so reading that for her would be a great way to thank her for helping me get it to you! ;D  
> 2) I'm considering breaking this up into two or three fics in a series! What would you guys think if I did that? There's so much more that I want to do, and if I tried to put it all in one fic, it would be... so, so long. Like, probably hundreds of chapters. Is it easier to read something like that if it's all one story, or if it's broken into parts? Thoughts?


	25. Anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter: ahoy! Sorry, dudes. It kinda got away from me.

In the few hours that the group had been at the compound, Prompto still had yet to really see the room he'd be sharing with Noctis. He wasn't really in a rush, though. As he looked around Ignis and Gladio's room, he couldn't help but marvel at the place. It both was and wasn't decorated; remnants of when they'd lived there before, Prompto assumed. The walls were a little dusty, but most rooms in the compound were. They'd just gotten there, after all, and it had been over a year since they'd last been there. Still, even dusty—or more appropriately, even as Ignis walked around dusting every single surface he could possibly find to dust—Prompto could see how much care and consideration had gone into coming up with the room's decorations. It was themed to neutral tones; blacks and grays with some whites thrown in here and there, very clearly Ignis' design choice.

The tour Ignis gave him was pretty brief, though Prompto had to assume that it was mainly because there wasn't a lot in the room to discuss at length. The major remaining pieces of furniture were pretty self-explanatory. Bookshelves teeming with books of a whole bunch of different kinds, several different kinds of filing systems with information on Astrals only knew what. Daemon research, more than likely. Ignis was a strategist, Noctis had said, so he'd probably accumulated a whole library's worth of information.

A library's worth, but not enough at the same time. With confident step, Ignis walked toward one of the file cabinets and placed a small notebook on top. It looked like a hand notebook; something that people jotted down quick notes that they didn't want to forget. It looked sort of familiar, Prompto was really curious, but he had a sneaking suspicion that if he asked, Ignis wouldn't tell him, so he stayed silent.

Next, Ignis shucked his jacket and hung it on a coat rack near the door. "Now then, shall we get to the kitchen? I'd wager you're feeling a bit peckish, no?"

And he was right. It hadn't hit Prompto until moments ago, but Prompto was _absolutely starving_. He hadn't eaten since earlier that day at the motel, and if he wanted to be any kind of help when they went out to wherever they had to go hunt later, he would need energy, Still, he hesitated. Sure, the whole guise that Ignis had used to get him away so that Noctis and Gladio could talk was a meal, but would it be too much trouble?

"A little," Prompto admitted, glancing around the tiny kitchen area. "But I don't need anything special or anything. Just some toast or something, and I can do that myself."

Ignis shook his head. "Nonsense. It won't take long, and if we're hunting later, it would be better if you had a full meal. Would you prefer pasta or rice?" He motioned for Prompto to sit a chair in the corner of the room, then turned to grab some paper towel from a dispenser on the counter.

As he pondered the answer to Ignis' question, Prompto glanced to the chair that Ignis had gestured toward and then moved to it so he could sit. Before he could sit, though, Ignis stopped him with a hand to the shoulder, gently pushing him aside for a few seconds while he ran a piece of paper towel over the seat to remove some of the dust.

"That's the unfortunate thing about not being in a place of residence for a whole year. Dust collects quite easily in your absence." Ignis crumpled the paper towel and threw it into the garbage can in the corner of the room. "Now, rice or pasta? Daggerquill or chickatrice? Hot or cold? Pesto or marinara?"

Daggerquill rice. How long had it been since Prompto had eaten daggerquill rice? Probably when Cindy made it for him a few years ago. Right now, after the past few days he'd had, hot daggerquill rice sounded incredible. Prompto had never tried it with marinara sauce, but if what Noctis said about Ignis' cooking was true... well, he was excited to see if it was good. Still, this was Ignis' kitchen. Prompto was a little bit nervous to ask for a specific meal, even if it was something that Ignis had offered to make him. Daggerquill rice with marinara sauce could take time and effort. Did Ignis even have daggerquill meat with him? These questions spun in his mind for a few seconds, his anxiety _really_ cropping up for the first time in almost a week. Raking his teeth over his lip, he glanced up at Ignis, who was watching him as he waited for an answer.

Prompto swallowed nervously and glanced from Ignis down to the counter. "I... um... wh-whichever is easiest for you. I don't mind. I like them both."

For a second, it was quiet. When Prompto looked back up at Ignis, though, he couldn't help but clamp down on his lower lip. Ignis looked back at him, a kind-but-stern expression on his face. "If you leave it to me, Prompto, I will cook you an eight-course meal. And I won't rest until you've eaten every bite. Therefore, for the sake of our time constraints and getting food in your stomach sooner rather than later, I suggest that you give me an actual preference now. Wouldn't you agree?"

Blinking in amazement, Prompto nodded. "I, uh... guess so," he murmured. "I haven't had daggerquill rice in awhile. With marinara? If it's not too hard to get t-"

Ignis shook his head no. "Not at all," he insisted as he turned back toward the refrigerator. Opening a shelf over the stove, he took out a large jar, marked with the word 'marinara' in black marker and dated just over a month ago. He set it on the counter, before he got into the refrigerator. "Gladio and I made a quick pit stop at the grocery store on our way here, to stock both the main kitchen and this one. I like to ensure that I have a bit of everything right at the ready at all times. You never know when you'll need to whip up an impromptu meal. Or, I suppose, in this case, it's an 'imPrompto' meal." He smirked over his shoulder, obviously proud of his pun.

Prompto wasn't quick enough with his attempt to stifle the chuckle that escaped.

Smiling, Ignis gathered an old rice cooker from another cabinet and give it a quick wash in the sink. "Ah, someone other than Gladio who enjoys the majesty of puns. This is the start of a beautiful friendship, Prompto," he remarked over his shoulder. After a few more seconds, he continued. "I'm honestly relieved that no one robbed this place. We left it more or less abandoned for a year. There would be no evidence."

"Wh-what else did you leave behind? N-Noct told me you had to leave in a hurry." Prompto winced as he spoke, each time he stumbled.

Why did his nervous stutter always have to find its way back? Of course, he knew it was unrealistic to think that he was rid of it just because he didn't stutter in front of Noctis. Realistically, as nice as all of his new friends were, they were still relative strangers to him; he still wasn't completely comfortable with them yet.  Noctis was a weird exception, though. Despite their limited familiarity, Noctis didn't really make him nervous that often. Still, much to his surprise, Ignis didn't tease him for his stutter.  Most strangers did. Even Aranea, for as close as they were now and as much as Prompto adored her, accidentally teased him about it the first time they met.

Still, Ignis didn't comment. None of Noctis' friends had ever really commented on it, actually. "We did. Many of my cooking supplies stayed behind, as did many of our books. I know Noctis left quite a few art supplies behind, and Lunafreya left many of her vintage wines and special tea blends. For the most part, the things we left behind were things that we didn't _need_ to survive. Luxuries," he explained.

"And now you have them all back." Prompto smiled.

Ignis nodded, though his expression was slightly concerned. "Indeed. And provided that Gladio and Noctis can work through their differences—as long as my talk with Gladio took root—there should be no reason for us to ever need to abandon them again," he mused, a slightly tentative tone in his voice.

"Yeah." It was a simple one-word answer, but Prompto was honestly concerned about how the conversation between Noctis and Gladio was going.

Prompto could tell that they missed each other. They _definitely_ missed each other. The problem was, though, that both of them were stubborn. Prompto hadn't been around long and even he'd figured that out. He worried that they wouldn't be able to work through things. What if things got worse somehow? What if they ended up actually hating each other, and because Prompto told him it would be okay, it was Prompto's fault? What if it made Noctis hate him? Swallowing nerves, he shook his head hard. That wouldn't happen. Right? Noctis wouldn't hate him... he hoped.

Instead of allowing himself to focus on that, he raised his eyes to look at Ignis, watching as he moved masterfully through the kitchen. Yes, he'd seen Ignis in the kitchen at the Hammerhead Motel before, but this was different. This was his domain. His own kitchen. He already knew where everything was, so it was on a different scale. Despite the silence hanging over the room, it was a good momentary distraction, watching Ignis work. Once he got all of what he needed together, though, that was when the magic really started.

Prompto had seen Takka cook before. He'd watched Cindy and Aranea cook countless times. He'd even seen _Ignis_ cook before, with Weskham. That was nothing like this, though. Ignis moved around the kitchen like a professional, doing two—sometimes three—things at once. At several points, Prompto spoke up and offered to help him, but Ignis waved him off. _"No thank you,"_ Ignis had said the final time Prompto had asked. _"I barely let Gladio assist me when I'm cooking."_ Through the words, Ignis had a smile on his face. Between that, and the way that he just seemed to float around the kitchen, Prompto could tell that he just really enjoyed himself when he cooked.

It took a lot less time than Prompto expected. Within half an hour, Ignis had placed a plate in front of him with a cup of coffee beside it. Cream and sugar sat behind the coffee cup on the table, waiting for Prompto to put his drink together. "Bon appetit," he announced with a friendly smile on his face. "If you find anything not to your liking, let me know."

A dumbfounded "thank you," was all Prompto could manage in response.

Blinking, Prompto glanced down at the most massive plate of rice that he'd ever seen. The aroma that rose from the marinara sauce, too, was pleasant, but different. It was unlike any marinara that Prompto had smelled before. His eyes flicked up to look at Ignis, who had retreated to the sink to clean up after his cooking, and then back down to his plate. Homemade pasta sauce and a mountain of rice. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before. It wasn't like he didn't eat often. He did. Usually, though, the portions were normal sized. This looked like enough food to feed two people, though. At the very least, two of him.

Still, Prompto lifted the fork from the plate and took a bite. Somehow, it tasted even better than it looked and smelled. A smile formed on Prompto's face as he chewed, and he dug in, eating faster than he ever recalled eating before.

After a couple of minutes worth of silent eating, the sounds of the dishes the only thing in the whole apartment, Prompto finally spoke again. "You must enjoy cooking," he mused. "Between the inn and the fact that you have your own kitchen... I mean..." He kicked himself. Obviously, Ignis loved cooking, or else he wouldn't do it so often.

Ignis didn't chastise him, though. Instead, he just nodded as turned back around to start cleaning the kitchen up. "I do. Cooking and cleaning are how I wind down when I'm feeling tense."

"You must cook and clean a lot," Prompto remarked. "'Cause I'm pretty sure I've never met people with a lifestyle as tense as you guys have."

A soft chuckle was Ignis' only initial reply, but then he nodded. "Generally speaking, when we're back here, I'm either helping Weskham go over reports, or in one of the kitchens. In some of our more trying times, I would wager that I baked a mountain worth of pastries." He placed a frying pan in a cabinet, then turned to dry a spoon.

With a smile, Prompto turned back to his plate. He gathered another forkful of rice, but before he ate, he said, "I bet the people at the motel are bummed that you and Weskham are gone, though. Pretty much every customer I saw was talking about how much better the room service was than when they were there last time." He paused to eat his forkful, chewed, swallowed, and then added, "and Noct pretty much raves about your cooking. You and Weskham both."

Ignis chuckled. "For a time, Weskham and I were the only ones keeping Noctis from subsisting on a diet composed solely of takeout. Even Regis couldn't stop him." At the mention of Noctis' father, Prompto watched as Ignis glanced out the small window over the counter, in the direction of the lounge.

So much for not worrying. Prompto, too, found his mind going in the same direction. What were they talking about? Gladio hadn't come back yet, and Noctis hadn't come this way either, so he had to assume that they were still talking. Prompto hadn't heard anything break from that direction. Would they be able to hear shouting? The buildings weren't _that_ close, but they were close enough that through the window, Prompto could see that the lights were still on in the lounge.

That was good, wasn't it? They were still in there. Talking. What was being said? What would happen if they _couldn't_ work through it? Would this new home that they'd found their way to be destroyed again? What if Prompto encouraging Noctis had doomed the whole group to have to leave again? Noctis would _definitely_ hate him then, and with perfectly good reason. What would it feel like, losing the best friend he'd made in a long time? What would it feel like, hearing Noctis—the person he was pretty sure that he was falling head over heels in love with—decide to hate him because he'd stuck his nose in business that wasn't even his?

Over the course of his mile-a-minute thought process, Prompto went completely quiet and completely abandoned his half-eaten meal. He stared blankly at the significantly-smaller mountain of rice, poking it around with his fork and moving bits of daggerquill meat around.

"Prompto?" Ignis' voice cut through the silence, catching Prompto's ear from where he drew an arbitrary pattern in his rice with a piece of chicken.

Prompto snapped to attention, lifting his head so quickly that his glasses slid just slightly down his nose. He pushed them back up and glanced at Ignis. Apparently, while Prompto was zoned out, Ignis had even gone so far as to pour some coffee, grab a notebook from one of the shelves and start looking it over. It was also pretty clear that he'd been trying to get Prompto's attention for a little while, because the notebook was abandoned and closed on the small kitchen table, with a pen sticking out of it to hold his place.

"Huh?" Prompto blinked. "I'm sorry, w-were you talking to me? I wasn't... I didn't mean to zone out, I just-"

With a shake of his head, Ignis smiled a gentle smile. "It's okay," he reassured Prompto. "I was only asking if your meal is okay. You've been poking at it for more than five minutes now. If there's something wrong with it, I-"

"No! N-no, it's fine! It's good, actually. Really, really good. Like, the best daggerquill rice I've ever had. I..." Prompto trailed off, glancing at the table in front of him and falling completely silent once again. How did he tell Ignis that his mind was running in circles and playing out worst case scenarios, and trying to figure out what he would do—what all of them would do—if Noctis came out of this situation hating him?

Ignis looked at him, not judging, not trying to force him to speak. The expression on his face was gentle and encouraging, though, and Prompto found himself wondering if everyone in this whole group was like that. He looked back down at his plate, taking another bite of his meal to buy himself some time before he had to speak up again. Ignis and Luna had both completely floored him with their kindness, and then there was Noctis, who was in a league all his own when it came to understanding Prompto and being there for Prompto. When Prompto glanced back up at Ignis, Ignis was still looking at him expectantly.

"You what?" Ignis encouraged gently.

Prompto sighed. "I'm... I'm worried," he muttered. "I'm really, really worried about what's going on over there. Noct was in a really bad place a couple hours ago. He was like... he was a mess when we were at the river."

Nodding, Ignis said, "I could see it on his face. The only time I've ever seen his eyes that puffy was... right after Regis and Clarus passed away." His tone was somber, and he glanced back down at the front cover of the small notebook in front of him.

That only served to worry Prompto more, though. He pressed his lips together, pulling them into his mouth and then pulling in a slow and steadying breath through his nose. "Yeah. Talking about it cheered him up, though," he told Ignis. "B-but what if... " He stopped for a second, then shook his anxiety off and continued. This wasn't about him. It was about Noctis. And Gladio, but mostly Noctis. He could talk, for Noctis. "What if we made a mistake, Ignis? Pushing them to talk, I mean? What if they can't work it out and they fight more? And then the teams have to break up again? What if... wh-what if..."

"What if Noctis hates you?"

Prompto stopped shuffling his food around then, snapping his attention back to Ignis. Was it that obvious? He clamped down on his lip and shrugged a shoulder, glancing down at the table again. "Yeah. But more than that, I think. I mean, there's that, yeah. There's definitely that. But... there's also... it'll hurt him. It'll really hurt him if it goes bad. Like I said, he misses Gladio. He told me he really misses being brothers but he thinks Gladio hates him and I think that if they end up fighting more it'll really, really, _really_ hurt him. And... and it'll be my fault." He gasped for breath. "If it fails-"

Ignis shook his head no. "It won't fail."

"But how do you know?" Prompto asked, biting his lip. "It could fail. It's... it's not like a whole year of resentment can go away in a night. Right?"

There was flash of worry on Ignis' face—very visible, and it didn't go away immediately—which made Prompto all the more nervous. After a few seconds, Ignis shook his head hard and puffed out a breath, then looked at Prompto. "I can assure you, Prompto, the time has come for them to work this out. They'll-" he made the briefest of pauses, almost unnoticeable- "they'll work it out. Everything will be fine."

Prompto glanced down at his plate again. Even Ignis wasn't sure. Anxiety bubbled up and, in order to distract his mind, he started drawing patterns in his marinara sauce again.

"You know," Ignis spoke from his chair, "I can't say that I've ever seen Noctis smiling and laughing so soon after crying, but he was while the two of you were walking back from the river. I dare say you did a rather spectacular job lifting his spirits. I'm not sure what had him so miserable, but I _am_ certain of the fact that we all owe you a debt of gratitude for pulling him out of it." 

Blinking, Prompto shook his head no. "I... I don't think I did anything special. I just... y'know, listened. Anyone else could have done it," he pointed out, shrugging a shoulder and flicking his eyes to his coffee. It was probably lukewarm right now, but it was still coffee. He gathered the cream and sugar and mixed them in—enough cream to take the coffee from black to a light tan color, and three tablespoons of sugar—and then took a drink.

When he flicked his eyes back to Ignis, he was surprised to see the man shaking his head no. "Actually, no. Not anyone could have done it." He reached across the table, taking the cream in his hand and pouring some in his coffee. As he put it back and reached for the sugar, he continued. "Noctis is known for having a rather large personal bubble, especially since his father passed away." His expression went somber for a few seconds, but then he looked back at Prompto. "He has a very difficult time letting people in. With you, though, that doesn't seem to be an issue. He always seems to want you around. It seems, also, like he's opened up to you with a lot of things that he keeps hidden from most people. I suspect that you even know some things that I don't even know. That Lunafreya doesn't."

A pause, a chuckle, and Ignis set the sugar down on the table, stirred his drink around, then looked back up at Prompto. "I dare say you're almost closer with him than the rest of us are," he pointed out. "So, if your concern is that he'll hate you, I can confidently assure you that it's an issue you'll likely never have to face." The tone of Ignis' voice left very little room for argument.

Prompto stared at Ignis for a few seconds, blinked, then turned to glance down at his plate again. He knew things that Ignis and Lunafreya didn't know? Like what? Noctis had known them for ages, so how was it possible that _Prompto_ could know things that they didn't? What made him so special?

"I just want to be there for him like he's been there for me," Prompto admitted. It was more than that. It was _way_ more than that, and Prompto was fully aware of that fact. He couldn't say it aloud, though. He didn't dare tell Ignis how he felt about Noctis.

Once again, there was an odd expression on Ignis' face. This one was more knowledge than question, though, and he let a grin spread across his face. "That's good, Prompto. I think the pair of you are exactly what one another needs. Perfect for one another," he took a drink from his coffee and gave Prompto a pointed look over the brim.

Ignis knew. Ignis could tell. Prompto didn't know how he could tell, but he could tell. A deep red flush dusted across Prompto's cheeks and he glanced down, pulling the right side of his bottom lip into his mouth. Was he being that obvious about it? And if Ignis could tell, who else could tell? Could Noctis? If he could tell, was he just not saying anything for the sake of protecting Prompto's feelings?

Before Prompto's mind could cycle any further down into the abyss of embarrassment, the sound of the cabin door opening and the crickets on the river getting louder caught his attention. He turned his head and went even redder when he realized that Noctis and Gladio had arrived. Gladio had his arm around Noctis' shoulders, and Noctis was smiling. Actually, really, smiling with his whole face. It wasn't that haunted smile that he sometimes wore, where there was something darker behind it. It was real and it was honest and it was beautiful. The most perfect thing that Prompto had ever seen. His cheeks flushed pinker, but he didn't let himself look away.

"Whoa! What the hell, Igs! We get just plain pasta, and Blondie here gets a fancy rice thing? Favoritism!" Gladio's voice boomed throughout the whole cabin.

Noctis followed up with a shrug and a chuckle as he shrugged himself out from under Gladio's arm. "I think Prompto earned it. Don't you?" he walked up behind Prompto and peered over his shoulder. "Gotta admit, though, I'm pretty damn jealous. That looks... really good."

Turning his head just slightly to the right, Prompto saw Noctis glancing at his plate. Noctis turned and looked at him, a tiny grin crossing his face, and Prompto wanted to sink into the floor to hide the red on his cheeks. "I... I can share if you-"

"Nah. The Big Guy here forced me to eat a whole plateful of pasta back in the lounge." Noctis flicked his eyes over to glance at Ignis. "We ran into Nyx on the way back from Cor and Wesk's room, by the way. Apparently, he went to ask Cor and Wesk about the team comps for the night, and they'd both crashed on the couch. He made an executive decision, he said, and called the mission off for the night."

Gladio nodded. "Yeah, it's probably for the best. Think we've all earned a night, after the week we've had."

"Indeed." Ignis chuckled. "Especially Cor and Weskham. The pair of them have dealt with far more than the rest of us, because they've had to deal _with_ the rest of us, I believe." After a pause, he chuckled and continued. "A full night's sleep sounds like something out of a dream at the moment."

Once Noctis stood back up straight, Prompto nodded. "Y-yeah. I slept for most of the day and I'm still exhausted."

With a laugh that made Prompto's heart stutter, Noctis nodded his head. "Tell me about it. Why don't we head back to our cabin and get set up for the night?" A warm, familiar hand found its way to Prompto's shoulder.

Prompto glanced at Noctis' hand, and then back at his plate. "I don't want to waste-"

"Don't even worry about that," Gladio's voice echoed through the room. "It won't go to waste. I'm pretty sure I'll have that gone in a matter of two minutes."

Ignis laughed softly. "He's not exaggerating, either. I suspect that he'll barely taste it." He glanced at Prompto, a gentle smile on his face. Honestly, Prompto wasn't sure how he knew, but he could almost sense the gentle, 'I won't tell Noctis, it's okay,' in his expression. It wasn't as though Prompto was concerned, especially since he'd never actually admitted anything aloud, but it was a comfort at the same time.

With that in mind, Prompto nodded and stood. "Alright. Um... thanks, Ignis. I... I appreciate it." Both the meal and the reassurance.

Smiling, Ignis nodded his head. "Anytime."

After Ignis adamantly deflected Prompto's offer to help him clean up, the group of them said their goodnights. Prompto and Ignis shared a smile when Gladio and Noctis hugged one last time. It was all the more obvious now that they'd missed one another, and Prompto had taken part in helping them find their way back to friendship again. That thought alone had him smiling as they left Ignis and Gladio's cabin and headed to theirs.

The smile changed to surprise, though, when Noctis looked his way and said, "I owe you. A lot."

Prompto shook his head adamantly. "For what? I didn't-"

Taking a sidling step, Noctis stepped in front of Prompto and shook his head no. "You did, though. You really, really did. I mean, you were there for me. You pulled me out of that... that mood. And you convinced me to talk to Gladio. Everyone else has been trying for a long time, but you... you did it. And it was worth it." He smiled, placing a hand on Prompto's bicep, one side of his mouth quirking up into a grin. "So... thank you." His expression was soft and genuinely happy.

"Any time, Noct. I mean... I just... I just want you to be happy."

The area was lit with daemon lights, but it was still dark enough for Prompto to excuse the dusting of red that he saw crossing Noctis' face as a trick of the lighting. He glanced down at the ground, then back up at Prompto. "I think I am. At least, I'm as close as I've been in a really long time."

Good. That was good. Noctis deserved to be happy, after the way the world had kicked him around for so long. The fact that Prompto had even the slightest bit to do with him finding that happiness made _Prompto_ feel happy, too.

After a couple seconds of silence, Noctis motioned with his head toward their cabin, and they resumed their walk. When the door opened and Noctis flicked the light on, he chuckled softly at the pile all of their bags were left in on the floor. "The Big Guy mentioned that he kinda breezed out of the room in a hurry. Guess he wasn't exaggerating," he murmured.

But that wasn't what had Prompto's attention. Now that the lights were on, he finally took a chance to look around the room. It definitely looked like Noctis' room. It was as black as a room could possibly be, and all of the décor shouted Noctis' influence like someone was actually shouting it in the room. Some sketches—Noctis' style, of things like the Altissian skyline, Longwythe Peak, people that he knew (one of his father jumped out at Prompto)—decorated the walls. It was a nice room. Comfortable. The staircase in the corner had Prompto curious as to what was upstairs, but he figured he had all the time in the world to find out. When Prompto's eyes settled on the rest of the room again, though, something caught his attention instantly.

"Um... Noctis? Th-there's only one bed." He paused. "Unless there's one upstairs."

Noctis jumped to attention at Prompto's words and looked at the bed in the middle of the room. "Damn it! I... I meant to ask Specs and Wesk about... I mean... I knew there was only one bed but I meant to... I..." He glanced down at the floor, around the room, and then back up at Prompto. This time, Prompto _definitely_ wasn't imagining the red in his cheeks.

The red was completely reasonable this time, though. Why would Noctis want to share a bed with Prompto? "It's alright!" Prompto assured him. "Hey, it's fine! I can sleep on the floor and-"

"No!" Noctis shook his head. "No way! You should take the bed, man. It was my screw up and everything, so I can get a second set of blankets from the closet and-"

"But you've had a really rough night."

"You're still hurt, though."

"It's fine, I can sleep on the floor..." The last part was spoken in unison, by both of them, in almost the same tone of voice. Worried, anxious, refusing to back down and let the other sleep in discomfort.

Silence hung over the room like a heavy blanket. In the back of Prompto's mind was a suggestion that maybe, just maybe, it would be okay if they shared the bed. He didn't say it, though. Instead, he was about to ask if there was anywhere else on the compound that he could sleep. Luna had mentioned the lounge having a couch. Prompto was small. If he had to, he could sleep on the couch instead. This was Noctis' bed, and he deserved to have it.

Before he could open his mouth to ask, though, Noctis spoke up. "I... I mean... the bed's not small. If you're comfortable with it... if it won't bother you, we can... you know. Share. I promise I won't get into your space or anything. I-if you're cool with it and everything."

"I'm cool with it..." Prompto answered quicker than he expected to, his voice a sharp and throaty croak. "If... if you are. It's your bed."

Noctis was quiet for a couple of seconds, but then he nodded his head. "Y-yeah. I'm... I'm fine with it." He was quiet for several seconds, before moving over to the closet and pulling out a set of black bedding with white pillowcases. He set them on the foot of the bed and turned around, flicking his eyes back up to look at Prompto again. When he finally spoke again, his voice was quiet, and when Prompto dared himself to glance over, Noctis' whole face was bright red. "If you want... you can change in the bathroom, and I'll go upstairs..." he murmured, before grabbing one of his bags and turning toward the stairs without another word.

Prompto blinked, the heat and redness sure to make his face melt off. _Be cool. This isn't a big deal. R-right?_ he asked as he walked over to one of his bags and filed through it for something to sleep in. His chocobo pajama pants and a tank top were fine. _It's just sharing a bed. Nothing behind it. Just... sharing a bed. With a friend. With Noctis..._

He repeated the mantra over and over again in his head as he shucked his clothes and put his pajamas on in their place. A couple of cold splashes of water, with the feeble hope of getting rid of some of the red in his cheeks, and he turned to head back into the bedroom. When he got there, he saw Noctis finishing putting the new bedding on top of the bed and tossing the old bedding into the corner. As soon as he turned to glance at Prompto, the red that overtook his face was enough to rival Prompto's own.

"You're sure you're cool with this, r-right?" Prompto asked.

Noctis nodded. "Yeah. Long as you are."

The only answer Prompto gave was a nod as he put his dirty clothes into his bag. He was cool with it, but he wasn't _acting_ very cool. He was acting like a pretty big idiot.

"Tomorrow, I'll talk to Wesk and Cor and see about getting two twin beds put in instead. Just... remind me, alright?" Noctis asked as he turned the covers down and crawled into bed.

Prompto nodded. Before he crossed the room, he turned the light off. "Or two fulls. It'll be cramped, but... I think there's room." He took his glasses off, folded them, and set them down on the night stand.

Noctis hummed in reply as Prompto crawled into the blankets. "We'll figure it out. 'Night Prompto. And... and thanks again for today."

"Anytime, Noct. G'night..."

For a little while, it didn't seem like sleep was going to come easily. Prompto was acutely aware of the space he was taking up, and how every single move he made brought him closer to Noctis. When Noctis' breathing slowed down and became the soft, rhythmic breathing of sleep, Prompto found himself slightly envious. It wasn't his fault, though. It wasn't like he knew how much Prompto wanted to close the space between them and just nuzzle against his chest. After a little while, though, Prompto eventually found himself edging into sleep, a blurry visage of Noctis' sleeping face the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff's gonna get a little bit intense from here! Hold onto your hats, friendos!
> 
> Don't you worry! nicoleiacross will be dealing with the Gladnis talk in her side-fic, which I still recommend you check out! ♥


	26. Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild needle related trigger warning. <3

Truthfully, Noctis' motivation to ask for a new bed was never really _there_. So, it never came up. He always 'forgot' to ask Cor or Weskham about it. Maybe it was manipulative of him, but there was something about the feeling he felt falling asleep every night over the past few weeks with Prompto at his side, sleeping peacefully, that he couldn't describe. Prompto had never reminded him about it, either, so it couldn't have been _that_ bad. Noctis wondered if maybe it was an anxiety thing—not wanting to make a big deal out of something seemed to be Prompto's MO, after all—but he'd also noticed that, little by little, Prompto's anxiety seemed to be fading over the past few weeks. At least around Noctis. There were still momentary flare ups, but Noctis couldn't imagine that they'd have gone away overnight.

They'd _also_ discovered that Prompto and Noctis made a pretty damn good hunting team. With the addition of Aranea and Cindy, Weskham and Cor came to the realization that they could go so far as to split the groups into pairs to cover more ground, with Nyx and Luna accompanying whoever was taking on the most dangerous job for the evening. When Noctis and Prompto were alone, though, and with Prompto's bolstered confidence, thanks to his aeon, he was as excellent a fighter as Noctis imagined that he'd be. Weskham and Cor seemed slightly more willing to send them on more dangerous jobs together, and they had yet to disappoint.

Last night, they'd been out until two in the morning, dealing with a pack of three naga in a cave. Their aeons worked well together. Noctis' dragon had the strength, and Prompto's fox could decimate daemons in a split second with a blast of light from its horn. Noctis was so proud of him, for developing some confidence in himself. He deserved it.

A few times over the past few weeks, Noctis had sought out Gentiana to talk about what he'd learned, but the woman had become increasingly uncertain about many things. She had very few answers, and even had some _questions_. Most of the questions involved Luna; who Luna was, why Luna seemed so familiar to her. Luna, too, was growing increasingly curious about Crystal Space, and Noctis found himself wondering if there was any way for him to bring his friends in with him. If he remembered, he would have to ask Gentiana the next time he went in. Not only did he want to introduce Luna to Gentiana, but he also wanted to show the place to the others.  Everyone knew about the place now, and Noctis relayed all of the information that he got from Gentiana every time he went in, so it wasn't like it was some deep dark secret anymore.

That was his thought process as he lay awake in bed, after waking up at five in the evening. Awake, and with a _killer_ headache. One of the worst headaches he'd ever had, actually. It ripped through his skull and stopped right below his eyes, but the rest of his head didn't feel any better. His nose was clogged and there was a taste in his mouth a hundred thousand times worse than regular morning breath. It felt like he had a hangover, but he was almost positive that he hadn't had anything to drink, so how was that possible? He opened his eyes, grunting against the light even in his dark bedroom, and turned to glance at Prompto, who was still sound asleep.

On its own, that was a little bit strange. Most of the time, Prompto was the one who woke up first. He'd taken to getting up and showering and going to help Ignis and Weskham set the table for whatever meal was happening right after he woke up. Now though, he slept with the blankets pulled up to his ears. Noctis was willing to chalk it up to the time they'd spent in the cave. By the time they got home after finishing up with the naga and several other straggling daemons, it was three in the morning, and they'd been so tired that they'd both just collapsed into bed. Prompto was out like a light before he was, but Noctis wasn't far behind. And they'd both slept through the night.

Hadn't they? Honestly, a lot of the night and the morning was hazy. It was almost like he'd gotten drunk, or taken some kind of drug. He'd drank before, but he'd _never_ touched drugs. He never would. So, what in the hell was wrong?

It was a shame, really. Noctis was still really, really exhausted, but some odd sensation, coupled with a sharp, pricking pain in his arm, had dragged him out of sleep and refused to let him get back to it. The pain was still there, though now it was dulled to the feeling of a bruise, and it was distracting him enough to keep him awake. What had happened? Something, obviously. Something bad enough to make Noctis ache. Had he hit his arm in the cave? No, that didn't seem likely. He'd have remembered that happening. And it wasn't that kind of pain, anyway.

This was a different kind of pain. Almost like someone had stuck a needle into his arm. Had they run into a cactuar outside of the cave? Cactuar only came out during the day, right? So, that wasn't likely. The thought had him pulling the blankets back and switching on the lamp on his bedside table.

Noctis flinched away from the light, groaning and covering his eyes with his hand. It sent a jolt of pain through his aching head, and he wanted to throw the blanket back over his head to block it out. He would have, if he wasn't concerned about waking Prompto up. Instead, he slowly lowered his arm and blinked against the light coming from his bedside lamp.

Honestly, the fact that Prompto hadn't automatically woken up when the light came on was surprising in and of itself. Most of the time, the slightest noise would wake Prompto up; the slightest shift, the slightest change in atmosphere. Light, too. Ignis suspected that it had to do with the sleeping pills and 'adverse effects on Prompto's ability to sleep.' As little as Noctis knew about things like that, it made sense. The fact that he wasn't awake set a couple alarm bells in Noctis' mind. Silencing them, trying to convince himself that he was panicking for no reason, he glanced down at his arm.

And then, the reason showed itself.

Three inches of his arm on the underside of his elbow was covered in dark purple bruising. Extremely dark and _angry_ bruising. Noctis blinked at it for a couple of seconds, before leaning in a little closer—ignoring the dull throbbing in his head when he moved—and blinked in surprise when he caught sight of what was in the middle of the bruising. A tiny mark, no bigger than a pinprick—and difficult to see unless looking for it—stood out and caught his attention. How in the hell did that happen? His mind went back to the possibility that, maybe, he and Prompto had run into a cactuar that he hadn't seen. That was crazy, though.

As he blinked at the spot on his arm, he heard a whimpering groan and felt the blankets move to his left.

"Noct?" Prompto's voice, sounding tired and weak, came from the other side of the bed. "Unh. Ow. D-do we have any... d'we have any pain relievers? I've got a major headache."

Noctis jumped at the sound of Prompto's voice, his eyes moving from the spot on his arm to look at his friend next to him. The question registered seconds later, and Noctis nodded his head. "Y-yeah," he muttered nervously, raking his teeth over his lip. "They're in the bathroom. I can get 'em, since I need some too."

The bed shifted even before Noctis moved, and when he glanced over at Prompto, he saw that his friend was moving around a little in the bed. Noctis quickly hid his arm from Prompto, not wanting to worry his friend about anything that might have happened last night, or while they were sleeping, or... how _else_ could it have happened? Moving quicker than his aching head wanted him to, he got out of bed and headed into the bathroom. Prompto called something after him, but the words didn't register. Noctis wanted to listen, he wanted to be able to say that he heard what Prompto had said, but he couldn't focus.

With the safety of bathroom wall keeping him from Prompto's sight, he glanced at his arm once more. It was painful, like the doctor had just drawn blood or given him a shot or something. When he touched it, it hurt, much like a normal bruise. The only thing out of the ordinary was the spot in the middle that looked like a needle mark. What was he supposed to do? Did he tell someone? Or did he just keep it to himself and hope that it went away and never happened again? If he told people, what would they think? Would they think he was sick or something? Would they think that he was doing drugs? All of the questions made his head hurt more as he opened the drawer next to the bathroom sink and took the pain relievers out. He could figure it out later. He'd just have to wear longer sleeves, for now.

As prepared as he thought he was for that, though, nothing prepared him for what he saw when he opened the door to get back to the bedroom. Prompto was sitting up in bed now, his glasses on, as he stared down at the crook of his own arm. He blinked a couple of times, completely unaware that Noctis had returned to the room. Did that mean that he had something there, too? That whatever had happened to Noctis, had happened to him, too?

"Prompto?"

Prompto jumped to attention, immediately hiding his arm, but wincing against the sudden movement his jump had caused. "N-Noct. Um... sorry, I-"

Noctis bit his lip and moved forward, offering the pain relievers out to Prompto. "You..." He paused. Did he really want to call Prompto out, when he didn't know why Prompto had been looking at his arm like that? No. He couldn't just pretend he hadn't seen anything, though.

The solution was kind of obvious, though he really didn't want to admit it. As he sat on the bed, glancing down at his own arm, he wondered what Prompto would think if he saw it. If they had any hope of figuring it out, though—assuming Prompto was having the same issue as he was having—one of them needed to be the bolder one. If it had to be Noctis, then Noctis would do it. For Prompto's sake.

After he downed his pain relievers, Noctis raked his teeth over his lip and glanced over at his friend. "So... I'm kinda trying not to freak out right now."

"Wh-why?" Prompto asked, gathering a half-empty water bottle from his bedside table and drinking some to down his pain relievers. When he set it down, he held his arms a little tighter to his body. "Are you... are you okay?"

Honestly, Prompto's movements both confirmed everything and nothing at the same time. There was definitely something he was hiding, that much was obvious. He frowned. Was he okay? "I mean... not really," he answered honestly. "I don't think I'm like... dying or anything. But, I..." 

Noctis trailed off there. His hand found his forearm and smoothed along his skin, right below where the bruising started. How was he supposed to tell Prompto? Going into a situation with no immediate plan—without any way to get himself _out_ of it—was something he _really_ needed to stop doing. A few second passed, without any answer or out presenting itself, and Noctis decided that tearing it off like a band aid was probably the best solution. With that in mind, and without another word, he straightened his arm, displaying the underside of his elbow to Prompto. The bruising was still angry, and Noctis was still really concerned and confused, but Prompto needed to see.

The gasp that Prompto gave following the reveal was soft; Noctis probably wouldn't have noticed it, if the room wasn't quiet otherwise. He felt the bed shift when Prompto leaned forward just slightly, looking at the center of the bruised area and frowning even deeper. The touch of Prompto's fingers to his skin right below the bruise surprised Noctis, but he didn't move his arm away.

"You..." Prompto spoke, finally. "Y-you too?"

Too. Noctis, too. It wasn't like he hadn't already pretty much pieced together the fact that Prompto was trying to hide the same thing from him, but having confirmation both eased his mind and made him angrier. Not to mention, more worried. He watched as Prompto pulled his arm away from his side and revealed a similar bruise, with a tiny pinprick in the middle. Prompto's left arm, Noctis' right. The arms that faced the outside of the bed.

Blinking in amazement down at Prompto's wound, Noctis swallowed thickly. "What the hell happened last night?" he asked.

For a few seconds, the only response was silence, but then Noctis heard Prompto give off a soft and shaky breath. "I don't... I don't know about last night. But..." He stopped short, glancing down at his arm and blinking. Swallowing nervously, he turned his head to look up at Noctis, then pulled in a slow breath and puffed it out quickly. "This... this isn't the first time this has happened to me."

Noctis met his eyes, but Prompto would only hold the contact for the briefest of seconds. Even after Prompto looked away, bright blue and bespectacled eyes turned down to look at his arm again, Noctis still looked at him. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I..." Prompto started, then stopped, hugging himself with the other arm.

Thinking back to when the two of them sat at the river together a few weeks ago, how Prompto had comforted him and coaxed the truth out of him by holding his hand. It didn't really take any coaxing for Noctis to do exactly that. Well, not exactly. He took it up a step. Without a word, Noctis slid across the bed and wrapped an arm around Prompto's shoulders, pulling him a little bit closer. Noctis expected the warmth against his side. What he _didn't_ expect, though, was the way that Prompto turned to the side and curled against Noctis' shoulder. The blankets moved when Prompto's legs moved, and he wrapped both arms around Noctis.

When Prompto finally continued speaking, he was mumbling into Noctis' shoulder. "It happened a lot when I was a kid. When I was a teenager, too."

Noctis blinked. When Prompto was a kid and a teenager. "But then it stopped?" he asked.

Prompto nodded, pulling his face from Noctis' shoulder, but resting his head there in its place. "When I was about seventeen, Cin and Nea found out about it, and they told Cid. Cid asked my dad about it, and he said my dad... he didn't know anything about it. I remember him saying something like... it was drugs or something. Like I was doing drugs." He stopped short and looked at Noctis' panic evident on his face. He tensed and sat up straight, shaking his head adamantly. "But I don't! I wouldn't! I-"

"No! No, I know you wouldn't," Noctis reassured him. Who in their right mind would think that Prompto did drugs?

With a somber nod, Prompto started talking again. "Good, because shaking my head like that really hurt," he murmured with a self-deprecating laugh. 

The comment reminded Noctis of his own headache, and he let out a soft groan, leaning his head down onto Prompto's where it rested against his shoulder. "Tell me about it. My whole head feels like a balloon. My nose is stuffy, my eyes are tired, and my mouth tastes like someone poured Essence of Morning Breath into it." He frowned, then hugged Prompto tighter. "Did... did you ever feel like that? Do you?" Or was it just Noctis?

All humor, or anything resembling it, faded from Prompto's face. "I feel it now, yeah, but..." He shook his head no. "I never used to. It was always the normal exhaustion I felt after taking my sleeping pills. I... Aranea says that my dad has something to do with it, but I..." His voice went quiet.

Noctis felt a frown drawing the sides of his mouth downward. Prompto didn't believe that his dad would do something like that. He didn't need to finish the sentence; Noctis knew. Aranea thought that Prompto's dad had something to do with it, but because of some blind sense of loyalty that Prompto had to the man, he wouldn't admit how accurate it probably was. Prompto's dad had spent a major part of his life pushing Prompto into an emotional corner; making him feel indebted and not allowing him to do things that could improve his confidence. Nothing had ever really indicated that something like this would happen, but Noctis was worried.

If it was true, and the truth ever came out, Prompto would be crushed. Wouldn't he?

Shaking that thought off with a mental slap, Noctis tried to focus on the situation at hand. They both had mysterious needle marks in their arms and neither of them had any idea where they came from or what was causing them to feel like they'd each taken a long walk off a short cliff. There was a sinking suspicion in the back of Noctis' mind that it had something to do with Prompto's dad, but that was impossible, wasn't it? The only connection he had to _potentially_ know where the compound was, was Ravus. And Ravus would never put Luna in danger like that, would he?

Of all the times not to be able to stop his mind from working, when he had a splitting headache was _not_ the best one, Noctis decided. He groaned and looked at Prompto, who looked like he was trying to shield his eyes in Noctis' shoulder now. It would have been cute, if Noctis didn't feel like doing the same.

Huffing a humorless laugh, Noctis looked toward the shade-drawn window, wincing at the light that shone around the edges. "What should we do?" he asked, hesitantly pushing away from Prompto and hanging his legs over the edge of the bed. "I mean, despite the fact that I feel like I got hit by a truck, I... I'm hungry, you know? And... and we should tell someone. We should tell Weskham and Cor or-"

"Oh." Prompto frowned as he glanced at his hands. "Y-yeah. I'm... I'm used to dealing with stuff like this alone. Or at least with Cin and Nea. I don't-"

Noctis bit his lip and turned around from where he stood next to the bed. Prompto was pushing himself to his feet, but still staring at the floor. "I mean... we can talk to them first, if you want. If it'd make it easier for you. Maybe they'd, y'know, know more. Maybe they'll be able to tell us more about what Cid said to your dad back then." Or what his dad said to Cid.

Prompto still looked a little hesitant. A lot hesitant, actually. Noctis knew, though, that they needed to tell someone, and that if they didn't tell Cor or Weskham—hell, if they didn't tell Ignis and Gladio, too—that they'd be really mad if it ever came to light in another way. The past few weeks were just like old times with Gladio. Training together, playfully teasing each other, being brothers. As much as Noctis adored Prompto, and as much as he wanted Prompto to be comfortable... he really didn't want to put that at risk.

It ended up not mattering, though, because Prompto just nodded. "And then we should... we should probably tell the others. Shouldn't we?" The nervousness on his face was hard not to notice.

Noctis nodded, and after he grabbed his clothes from the closet, he walked back over to Prompto. Setting his clothes down on the bed, he reached an arm up and placed a gentle hand on his friend's bare bicep, uncovered thanks to the black tank top he always wore to bed. "I know it probably makes you anxious, trusting all these people," he said calmly. Not judging at all; Prompto had been through hell in his life, after all. "But trust _me_ , alright? Cor and Wesk are great. They really care. Like, a lot. Remember back in Hammerhead? How Cor was like... about to wring your dad's neck for getting on your case?"

"I remember," Prompto answered somberly, his eyes turning down to glance at his feet. "I just... I've dealt with things on my own—well, on my own with Cin and Nea—for my whole life, and I..."

Both hands went to Prompto's shoulders now, a method Gladio or Ignis always used when they were trying to get Noctis to listen. "I know. You've been by yourself for a long time. But you're not anymore, okay? You don't have to deal with stuff by yourself. Wesk and Cor will know what to do. And maybe Cindy and Aranea can come with us and tell them about what used to happen when you were younger. Right?" He met Prompto's eyes, which, despite the tiredness and nerves, were absolutely gorgeous. Even though his head ached and swam a bit, he couldn't help a small smile.

It was okay, though. More than okay, actually, because Prompto managed a small smile, too. It was tiny, and still nervous, but it was there, and Noctis took heart in it. "Right..." he murmured.

Noctis watched Prompto shake some hair from his eyes, revealing the corner of his glasses and the crack from that night in Piztala weeks ago. "We really need to go and get that fixed, huh?" he asked as he dropped his arms back to his sides.

"Yeah, probably," Prompto muttered, lifting his eyes to glance at the corner of his glasses. "I should call the eye doctor, but I..." He trailed off, paused, and then glanced at Noctis again. "I don't wanna go to Altissia alone. But I don't wanna bother the others either, y'know? They-"

Shaking his head no, Noctis said, "for one, you're not bothering anyone. Pretty sure any of us would be glad to go with you. For two..." He shrugged his head to the side, then pressed his lips together. "I mean... I'd go with you. If you'd wanna go with just me, anyway. If you'd rather go with everyone, or go with Aranea and Cindy or something, I-"

"No! N-no... I, uh..." Prompto stammered, and Noctis could swear that in the brief second that he saw Prompto's cheeks were red. Before he could focus too heavily on that, though, Prompto spoke up again. "I wouldn't want to... y'know... bug any of the others or anything. And Aranea and Cindy... I mean, they... they'd probably go too, but I... I mean... it's just to get my glasses fixed and stuff. You and me can do that easy, right?" He pointedly avoided looking at Noctis, instead pointedly focused on searching his bag for clothes.

Yeah. Yeah, they could do that easily. "We could," he answered, gathering his clothes back up from where he'd set them on the bed. "We definitely could. Right now, though... uh... let's go get Aranea and Cindy, okay? And then go tell Cor and Weskham."

Prompto agreed, and between the two of them, it was decided that Prompto would shower first. At least Prompto seemed to be feeling better about it. While Noctis sat on the bed and waited, he tried to reason out what was happening in his head. It was okay. It would be fine. It... it wasn't that bad. It couldn't be, could it? Once they got to the bottom of what was going on, of the needle marks and mysterious hangover feelings—and hopefully how none of it related to Prompto's father—things would be okay. And then they could make plans for Altissia.


	27. Calculate

"And this happened when you were a child as well?" Weskham's voice was calm, but his eyes weren't.

Before Prompto had a chance to answer, Aranea spoke up from where she leaned against the wall in Weskham and Cor's cabin. "All the damn time, actually. It was ridiculous that no one did anything about it, but Verstael had this way about him. He'd wrap the teachers and whoever else around his asshole finger. Never believed Skinny when he said something wasn't right about it." She grew increasingly agitated as she continued on.

Prompto frowned and shrugged his shoulders. "I... I mean... you don't know if he knows something or not, either, Nea..." he pointed out.

Honestly, Prompto hated feeling the need to defend his dad. He really, really hated it. His dad never defended him, and he really _had_ made Prompto miserable for a long time, so it wasn't like he deserved to be defended most of the time. Still, Prompto owed him. That was the only thing that had made it hard to leave Hammerhead behind. He loved Cid and missed Cid, sure. But Cid wanted him to move on as much as Prompto himself wanted to move on. Prompto's dad, though... in quiet moments, Prompto found himself thinking back to what he said before they left. How it was like a slap in the face that Prompto wanted to leave. It made sense, he guessed. It wasn't like he'd called his dad since he left, and it wasn't like his dad had called him, either. So, in a way, it made perfect sense that his dad would feel betrayed. He'd let Prompto live with him for twenty years, after all. There had to be some reason for that.

"Prom," Cindy cut in, before Aranea could get frustrated or angry with Prompto. Her tone was gentler than Aranea's probably would have been. "You ain't that dumb. You gotta know how suspicious it is that he's always got answers for everythin' but never got answers for nothin' at the same time. Remember how he always used to try'n tell us that you were on drugs?"

Of course, Prompto hadn't forgotten that. Was it an unreasonable conclusion to jump to, though? There were mysterious needle marks on Prompto's arms—ones that even _Prompto_ didn't know the origin of—and they always kept showing up. So... it made sense for his dad to think that. It wasn't _true_ , but it made sense.

As Prompto glanced to his left, looking to Noctis for support, he could see that support was definitely _not_ going to come from that direction this time. Noctis' eyebrows were furrowed, and over the top of the sunglasses that he wore to block out the setting sun, he could clearly see an angry expression. Before, he'd looked tired and ill. Now that Cindy and Aranea were talking about Prompto's dad, though, the tiredness in his expression had morphed to fury. Complete and total anger. Cor, too, seemed angrier than Prompto had seen him since they got to the compound. _Nearly_ as angry as he'd been when he'd faced down Prompto's dad the day they left. Clearly, support wasn't going to come from him, either.

"Just because there's no explanation... that doesn't mean that he had something to do with it. R-right, Weskham?" Prompto turned to look at the older man for guidance.

Weskham frowned a disapproving frown, and Prompto shrunk back a bit. Usually, expressions like that were followed by angry tirades that made Prompto want to disappear into the nothing. Weskham didn't speak at first, just nodded his tenuous agreement. "I suppose the lad is right," he replied hesitantly. "While it's completely reasonable for the two of you to find yourselves at that conclusion, it doesn't automatically mean that it's true, correct?"

Aranea curled her lip. "I know that," she snapped. "Skinny's never done drugs, though, so Besithia's defense is so thin that I could shatter it with a damn feather." She turned to look at Prompto pointedly. Not angrily, just making sure that he knew that her opinion was the same.

Prompto knew that, though. Aranea didn't usually change her opinion unless someone showed her hard evidence of the fact that it was wrong. Turning his head to look down at the floor in front of him, he nodded dismally. Not because he agreed with Aranea, but in acknowledgment of the fact that he knew that she'd never change her mind.

"Not to mention," Cindy continued, "now Noct's dragged into whatever it is, too. Reckon whatever's happenin', we oughtta get to the bottom of it before it starts happenin' to all of us."

Turning his head to look at Noctis, Prompto frowned. Cindy was right, of course. Whatever caused these mysterious needle marks to appear on his arm, Noctis had been dragged into it, too. For Noctis' sake, more than his own, he wanted to get to the bottom of it. He never wanted to see Noctis hurt. No more than he already had.

From behind Weskham, Cor finally broke his silence. His voice was a low rumble that almost shook the whole room, when he said, "so we're just ignoring the fact that all the signs point to Besithia having something to do with this? I don't know about the rest of you, but I can't ignore that. I'm sorry, kid." He turned to Prompto. "I know you don't want to believe it. But it's true. Nothing he's doing is what a real dad does. A real dad doesn't scare his kid into a corner. A _real_ dad doesn't favor one kid and not care what the other one does. A real dad would be _pissed as hell_ if mysterious needle marks had been showing up on his son's arms for his whole life."

Noctis turned to from Cor to Prompto, nodding an approving nod. "A real dad would want you to be happy, Prom. He'd be glad you were getting stronger and moving on. And he wouldn't try to scare you away from your new friends by pointing out how weak he thinks you are. 'Cause you're _not_ , Prom! You're not!"

The desperate seriousness on Noctis' face was almost enough to make Prompto change his mind on its own. He looked down at the floor, not wanting to say anything and chance letting Noctis down. A couple of seconds later, though, his attention was dragged back up from the floor by the feeling of a hand tightly grasping his each of shoulders. "Prompto," Cor's voice caught his attention. "You've gotta realize how suspicious all of this is. You're not stupid. Okay? You're a smart kid who's led a rough life. Honestly, I get it. I had a rough relationship with my dad, too. Different than yours, but I felt the same way you do for a really long time. But you don't need to keep sticking up for him. He hasn't done anything to deserve it." The man's voice was gentle now, and it took Prompto by surprise.

Weskham nodded from behind Cor. "Of course, nothing is certain," he said in a voice that was much calmer and gentler than Cor's. "But we think that deep down, you're aware of how suspicious and dangerous the whole situation is, and that you're afraid to admit it because of a sense of loyalty that he's forced on you." He nodded once, securely, and smiled a soft smile at Prompto.

Stepping forward, Cindy wrapped her arm around Prompto's shoulders. "And you know you ain't alone, either, right? You got me, and Nea, and Noct, and this whole new family that'll treat you way better than your dad or your brother ever would." She knocked Prompto in the head with two of her knuckles, not punching him, just giving him a gentle, sisterly tap on the head.

"Listen, Skinny," Aranea looked him square in the eye. "You know you're my brother. And you know I'd do anything for you.  I'd never try and convince you to do or believe in anything I thought was a bad idea. I know I've been saying this for ages. For what feels like a life time, honestly." She was unable to hide the tiniest bit of exasperation in her tone during that last bit. "I've always sorta held back. Sorta. 'Cause I know that despite everything, you care about your old man and your brother. But you deserve better and you know it. This is better. With us, and with all these people who care about you. You just... gotta admit that something isn't right. 'Cause I know you know it."

When Prompto was young, when he was an early teenager, sometimes he wished that he could have a different family. In some ways, when he met Cindy and Cid, his wish came true. More so when Aranea came into the picture. To think that now, now that he was an adult and had more or less figured his life out—as much as he could, anyway—he found something like the family he'd always wanted, admittedly, he thought that maybe it was too good to be true. Between birth parents that he never knew, who his dad always said 'didn't even care enough to put him up for real adoption,' and the dad and brother he'd grown up with? Thinking that something like this could be real, felt like too much to hope for. As he looked around the room, though, from Cindy and Aranea, to Weskham and Cor, and then finally, to Noctis, who looked at him with hope in his eyes, over the top of his sunglasses, Prompto thought that maybe... it could be real.

And yeah, in his heart of hearts, he'd always had some sort of vague suspicion that his dad had _something_ to do with all the weird and sad things that seemed to happen to him. He'd always feared to admit it, though. Maybe it was blind loyalty, or maybe it was the hope that behind the cruel words and reminders of his shortcomings, Verstael had _some_ sort of emotion toward him. Now, though, all he could do was nod a somber nod to his friends.

Swallowing thickly, Prompto finally spoke up. "I... y-yeah. I guess it... m-maybe it's possible..." he muttered, glancing down at the floor.

"Actually," Ignis' voice came from the doorway, "it's more than possible. I have my own suspicions regarding the matter." The door swung closed behind Ignis, who appeared with Gladio to his left and Lunafreya slightly behind the pair of them.

Weskham arched an eyebrow as he looked at the three. "How long were you there?" he asked any of the three of them.

"Long enough to want to go and knock Verstael's head off his motherfucking shoulders," Gladio replied.

With a nod, Lunafreya breezed past the two larger men and glanced at Cor, asking him with a hand gesture to move from where he stood in front of Prompto. When he did as she asked, Lunafreya turned toward Prompto and raised tear-shining eyes to look at him. "And long enough to want to do this," she added, grabbing Prompto around the shoulders and hugging him tightly.

Prompto laughed a humorless note against her shoulder. "Thanks, Lunafreya," he offered.

"Luna," she insisted against his shoulder. "Please call me Luna, Prompto. We are family, after all."

A smile curled up the corners of Prompto's lips as he hugged her back. "Okay... Luna," he murmured.

As Lunafreya—Luna—pulled back from the hug, she shared a smile with Aranea. Seconds later, she was bombarded by Cindy for another hug—a hug that made Prompto's hug seem weak—and a somewhat loudly-spoken word of gratitude for being kind to Prompto. A dusting of red crossed Prompto's cheeks. Like he couldn't thank her himself. Behind Cor and Weskham, Prompto saw a gentle smile flit across Noctis' face. No matter how unsure Prompto was of anything else—of his father's involvement in whatever had been happening to his arm for his entire life, of how much he deserved this new, amazing family—there was one thing that he _was_ sure of. He wanted, more than anything, to always see Noctis smile.

A few seconds passed, and Prompto heard a gentle throat clear from behind him. Ignis glanced around the room as all attention turned to him, and he offered the notebook in his hands out to Prompto. "It seems my timing is fortuitous. If you can call anything about this situation fortuitous."

Prompto took the notebook from Ignis' hands and blinked a couple of times when he looked it over. The small, brown, leather-bound notebook was familiar in a thousand different ways. It looked like one of the ones that his father carried around everywhere with him; one of the few notebooks that his dad brought out of the apartment. He flipped the front cover up, and completely and totally failed to conceal a gasp. It _was_ his dad's notebook. Prompto's eyes flicked up to Ignis, and he blinked a couple of times. "This... this is my dad's! He always has this with him! How did you-"

"Was just as shocked as you," Gladio commented, though he was flashing Ignis a half-smile that showed that he was just as impressed as he was surprised. "Shouldn't have been, though. Iggy's is a master of sneaking."

Ignis huffed a bashful laugh. "Not a master, but I'm quite adept. This didn't require much by way of stealth, admittedly. It wasn't with him, it was in his office. The door was open, I went in and got the notebook, then joined you and Noct in your room," he explained. "Simple as that." Gloved hands smoothed a couple of wrinkles from his black sweater-vest, then he raised his eyes back to look at Prompto.

That made sense. His dad didn't always close the door to his office. The only mystery was why this particular notebook wasn't with his dad at the time. Prompto looked back down at the notebook in his hand. Most of what was written in there was coded; abbreviated and then abbreviated again, to the point that Prompto couldn't understand any of it. Was it supposed to mean something? He flicked his eyes back up to look at Ignis and arched his eyebrow.

"I would wager that you're wondering what all of it means, correct?" Ignis asked, catching Prompto's eye.

With a nod, Prompto bit his lip. "It... it just looks like a whole bunch of chicken scratched gibberish to me. I don't know what any of these terms mean. What's BS0612? And CS00351?"

A flash of hesitance crossed Ignis' face. He glanced around the room, and then his eyes fell back upon Prompto. "I have a couple of theories for that," he admitted. "The likeliest is that BS stands for 'blood sample,' and all of the numbers behind it stand for the date. As for CS..."

"Crystal shard," Aranea replied confidently, her voice a low growl. "Gotta be. Like the ones he was always sending Skinny out for."

Blood sample. Crystal shard. Prompto's eyes moved to glance at the crook of his arm. It was covered in a hoodie at the moment, but he'd seen similar pinpricks surrounded by bruises so many times that the image may as well have been tattooed on the insides of his eyelids. What did his blood have to do with crystal shards? Notes on blood samples could have explained why those needle marks were always there. Did that mean that... was it possible that his dad had been testing his blood for something for his whole life? The next few lines were filled with odd abbreviations that Prompto couldn't even begin to understand. Ratios and letters that seemed to go together at random.

At the bottom of the page, the word "inadequate" was written and underlined three times. The next few pages were filled with similar notes, all with "insufficient," "inadequate," and "unsatisfactory" written on the bottom in giant lettering. Without knowledge of what the rest of the notes meant, Prompto had no idea what _that_ meant, either. But he could only assume that it wasn't good.

"Wh-what does this mean?" Prompto asked, blinking at Ignis and shaking some hair from his face.

Ignis frowned. "I'm not sure," he confessed. "I do, however, have an idea in mind as to how to find out."

All eyes in the room were on Ignis then. Undaunted by the attention, Ignis cleared his throat and glanced at Weskham and Cor before he started speaking. "I would like to take Prompto and Lunafreya on a small reconnaissance and intelligence gathering mission to Hammerhead," he began. "Just the three of us."

"Come again?" Gladio grunted out from beside Ignis.

After casting a momentary glance Gladio's way, Ignis pulled in a breath and continued. "While I'm unsure if Dr. Besithia has changed the locks to his apartment, if he hasn't, then that means that Prompto still has the key to the front door. We'll need to come up with a distraction, to gather Dr. Besithia's attention and lure him from the apartment for a time, Lunafreya can keep lookout for us, and Prompto and I can infiltrate the office to gather more information on what the man is hiding."

Noctis' voice surprised Prompto, as did its tone. "I'm kinda not in love with the idea of the three of you going alone..." he pointed out, stepping up to stand beside Prompto.

Before Prompto could register and respond to that, though, Cindy spoke up. "I can call Paw Paw n'have him help us out, if y'all need. Reckon he can fiddle with the ol' man's car and get him outta the house for a few hours." She either hadn't heard Noctis' protest, or she was ignoring it. "That'd be more'n enough to buy y'all time to get into the office, an' Paw Paw would be more'n happy to help if it meant nailin' Verstael to the wall." There was a bite in her voice that Prompto only heard when she was talking about his dad.

Prompto looked at Noctis, who was sharing a look with Gladio. Gladio was the next one to speak up. "Hold up. Why only the three of you? Wouldn't it make sense to take me or Nyx or Nea? Just in case shit goes bad?"

"Or me," Noctis interjected.

With a pointed look in Gladio's direction, Ignis shook his head no. "Prompto has familiarity with the apartment, and I am adept at getting what I need without maneuvering too many things around," Ignis insisted, his tone calm. "If the coordinators approve, I think a small contingent would be far better suited for this job. Besides that, the rest of you can prepare for tomorrow night's operation while we do this."

Luna nodded her agreement. "Provided Cid can keep Verstael distracted, it should be a very seamless operation. If everyone is agreeable, we would leave tomorrow morning, and we could easily be in, out, then back at the compound by nightfall." She turned her glance to Cor and Weskham, indicating that she liked the plan.

"Did Iggy talk to you about this?" Gladio asked Luna.

Luna shook her head no, though. "He requested my presence when Nyx gave us word of Prompto and Noctis' situation, but other than that, this is the first I'm hearing of it," she assured him. "I simply think it's a good idea. The fewer people with us, the less chance there is for us to be caught, and I can keep lookout while the two of them do what needs to be done." She looked to Cor and Weskham for approval.

Admittedly, whether or not Cor and Weskham approved, Prompto was still nervous. Unsure. Was going to his dad's apartment, breaking into his dad's office in search of information, worth the risk of being caught? Prompto didn't think that his dad would _harm_ them or anything, but that didn't mean that he wasn't capable of making their lives—or at the very least, Prompto's life—hell. The conflict lay in the fact that the only way to get answers, the only way to find out for certain what had caused the mark on Noctis' arm, and his arm, may very well have been to do just that. That, the prospect of answers for Noctis, was all the convincing it took. He turned his head to glance at Weskham and Cor.

"I... um... I think I agree with Ignis and Luna," Prompto answered.

Prompto felt the shift beside him when Noctis turned his head quickly to blink at him. "But..."

With a nod, Prompto turned to look at Noctis, nerves rising closer to the surface. He pushed them back and tried to look confident when he spoke to Noctis next. "I know. I... I'd be lying if I tried to say that it wasn't r-really, really nerve-wracking, too. But... but I think I need to." He didn't tell Noctis his reasoning, that he wanted to get to the bottom of things for Noctis' sake, because he was pretty sure that Noctis didn't need his pathetic, anxious friend sticking up for him.

Gladio still looked like he held some reservations, but he finally glanced at Ignis and bit his lip. "I, ah..." He hesitated for a couple more seconds, then sighed softly. "I don't think Iggy'll let anything happen to him, either. And... and besides, Luna's a good lookout."

"Of course I am. I look out for the group of you every night, do I not? Looking out for two will be significantly easier than looking out for ten, I should suspect," Luna agreed, placing a hand on Noctis' shoulder. "I'd never let anything happen to Prompto. Or Ignis," she added, glancing at Gladio.

Ignis laughed a soft note. "Besides that, it's not as though Prompto and I are incapable of defending ourselves and Lunafreya if the situation were to arise," he reminded them, then turned to Prompto with an approving smile.

As much as Prompto wanted to reciprocate, though, he fell just short. He supported the plan, that much was true. He wanted to get answers. There were still nerves, however, about going back to the apartment and potentially running into his father and Loqi. Scratching a hand through his hair, he turned to look at Noctis, who was looking down at the floor. Prompto couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but his lips were curled down into a frown, and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. It was almost enough to make Prompto take his agreement back, but no. He couldn't.

Before he got the chance to think more about it and psych himself out, Ignis spoke up. "All of this is merely theoretical, however, until we get approval from Cor and Weskham."

For a moment, Cor and Weskham were quiet. They glanced at each other, exchanging a couple seconds worth of silent communication. Weskham nodded a couple of times, before turning to glance back at Ignis. "Provided that you call us when you arrive in Hammerhead, and when you depart to return to the compound, I think this plan will be beneficial. It will give us a better read on Verstael's plans as a whole."

With a nod of agreement, Cor turned his attention to Noctis and Gladio. "Just those three, though. Ignis is right. A smaller contingent is safer. Way less suspicious," he pointed out. Gladio's only response was a grunt of annoyance, and Noctis didn't even reply with words at all. "Secondary mission for you, too. See how Hammerhead's been doing since these three came along with us. We haven't picked up on anything from out that way, but that doesn't mean that smaller groups haven't gathered. We clear?" he asked. 

Ignis and Luna nodded. Prompto bit his lip and followed suit with his own nod.

Cindy nodded her head. "Paw Paw calls me n'tells me every few days, but it'll be good to hear a first-hand report."

"You can also use Biggs and Wedge's shop to stock up on battle supplies while you're there, if you need to. I'll make sure they stock up on potions and whatever else." Aranea wrapped an arm around Prompto's shoulders. "And hey, if nothing else, it's a chance for you to get the stuff you left behind, right?"

It wasn't comforting. Not in the slightest. Especially not with the way that Noctis was still staring at the ground, refusing to look up and meet Prompto's eye. It wasn't like Prompto liked not having Noctis with him any more than it seemed like Noctis liked not being able to come along. He disliked it enough that he _almost_ wanted to burst out and plead with Cor and Weskham to change their minds and let Noctis come along. But, he didn't. He trusted Ignis and Luna. It'd be okay. _You'll be okay..._ he told himself.

With a declaration that Prompto, Ignis, and Luna were to meet Weskham in the war room in about an hour to go over their plans, Cor dismissed them, and the group split to their individual rooms. Noctis hurried out of Weskham and Cor's cabin and to their own without a word, and Prompto swallowed thickly. Before he could get two steps outside of Weskham and Cor's cabin, though, Aranea placed a hand on his shoulder and Cindy bombarded him with a hug from behind. Normally, he appreciated the hugs and attention. Right then, though, as Prompto watched Noctis disappear into their cabin, he really wanted to cut the conversation short and rush from the room to ensure that his friend was okay. He pushed back the urge, turning to glance at Aranea as she gave him a gentle push to the shoulder.

"Proud of you, Skinny. I know how much it must've took to admit that something's not right about your dad." Aranea nodded resolutely. 

Cindy nodded. "And for bein' brave about goin' back there. You gotta be nervous."

With a nod, Prompto bit down hard on his lower lip. "I mean, yeah. But... but now whatever's happening to me is happening to Noct, too, and if there's a chance that my dad is... that he's doing it, I..." He trailed off. He didn't need to continue.

Especially not if the smirk on Aranea's face was any indication. "Head over heels."

"Completely an' totally," Cindy agreed, placing her chin on his shoulder.

Heat rose to Prompto's cheeks, and he shrugged. "He's my friend," he explained. Whether or not Prompto had feelings for Noctis was irrelevant. "I wouldn't let him get away with hurting either of you, either, you know...?" It was the same with Noctis, sure, but also a little different. He knew it, and he knew that they knew it, too.

As though proving his point, both of them laughed a soft laugh. Aranea's laughter faded quicker, though, and she smoothed a hand through her hair. "Seriously though," she started, her tone calmer as she put a hand on Prompto's shoulder. "You're gonna be okay, right?"

Cindy finally released Prompto from her hug, and moved so that she was standing in front of him. "No one'll be mad if ya feel like ya need to back out, Prom. We all know how mean your old man can be," she reminded him.

But Prompto shook his head no. "N-no. I think... I think it's as much for me as it is for everyone else. To... to prove to myself that I can. That he's wrong, you know? That... that I'm not weak." That he wasn't a coward.

To his surprise, it was Aranea that hugged him this time. "Really, really proud of you," she told him.

The tiniest of smiles crept across Prompto's face, and he hugged Aranea back. "Thanks," he told her. "D-do you mind if I go and see if Noct's okay? He stormed off after the conversation in there, and I-"

"And he never really seemed like he was on board with it to begin with, did he?" Cindy asked, her head turning to look at the cabin that Noctis and Prompto shared.

Releasing him from the hug, Aranea nodded her head, before giving him a gentle shove toward the cabin. "Go after your man, Skinny," she encouraged him with a tiny grin.

Prompto would have argued that Noctis was very much _not_ his man, but he was kind of in a hurry to get to where Noctis was and make sure he was okay. Instead, he waved them off with a dismissive gesture over his shoulder and took off in a half-jog toward the cabin. Worry crept up almost instantly. What if Noctis was mad at him? What if the one time he was brave, it screwed everything up? Swallowing thickly, he stopped before he got to the door and glanced through the window. Through the pane of glass, he spotted Noctis sitting on the bed with his sketchpad in his hand, his staring intently down at the page as his pencil drew slow and deliberate patterns on the paper. Though he was focused, Prompto could plainly see the worry on his face, and guilt leaped up quickly.

Not for the first time, he wondered if he was making a mistake. In the back of his mind, he resolved to ask Noctis if him doing this would cause problems, would make Noctis mad at him. He nodded once, then hurried to the door.

As soon as the door opened, Noctis lifted his head from where he'd been looking at his notepad and caught Prompto's eye. The notepad and the pencil went completely abandoned, and Noctis was on his feet. He hurried up to Prompto in a pair of sweeping steps, and reached his arms out to wrap around Prompto's shoulders. Once he'd pulled Prompto flush against his chest, he murmured softly against Prompto's hair.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice shaky and uncertain.

The short answer was no. For many reasons, not the least of which was Noctis' dislike of the idea, Prompto wasn't sure of _anything_. He didn't want to worry Noctis, so he just nodded instead. "Have to," he murmured. "I need to know if my dad... if he... you know..."

Noctis nodded in return, sighing against Prompto's hair and pulling back from the hug. Pale blue eyes met Prompto's own, and in a tone that was equal parts gentle and desperately pleading, Noctis spoke again. "Then... promise me you'll be careful, okay? I mean... Specs will protect you and so will Luna, and I know you can... I know you can protect yourself, too. But... but..." He trailed off, worrying the left side of his lower lip between his teeth.

Whatever the end of that sentence was, Prompto didn't need to know. He nodded up at Noctis. "I promise. I'll be careful," he vowed.


	28. Coping

To say that Noctis was anxious was the biggest understatement that could have possibly been stated. Prompto, Ignis, and Luna had only been gone for just over two hours—they probably weren't even in Hammerhead yet—and Noctis had already paced through the whole compound, tried to draw no less than three times, even gone so far as to attempt cleaning up his cabin. He couldn't focus, though. He couldn't even nap, because his mind wouldn't stop.

After a fourth attempt to draw _any_ sort of scribble, Noctis decided to distract his mind by watching TV in the lounge.

When he got there, he was pleasantly surprised to see Nyx and Gladio in the middle of a game of pool. Neither of them was talking; instead, each one focused intently on their shot as they took it, with narrow-eyed focus on the pool table. Noctis had to admit, knowing that he wasn't the only one feeling anxious about the whole situation made him feel a little bit better. Only a little bit, though, and only for a moment, because as soon as the flash of feeling better overtook him, he remembered exactly _why_ he was feeling anxious to begin with, and the relief faded.

After waving a greeting to Gladio and Nyx, Noctis settled in on the couch and flipped the TV on. Several crappy movies, several more crappy TV shows... nothing worth watching, he decided with a soft groan. Noctis' eyes went down to his arm, to the fading bruise and the angrier needle mark on the crook of his elbow. It was a little weird, that _that_ made him think of Prompto, but it did. He wondered how anxious Prompto must have been right then, if Noctis was feeling like this. What if this didn't work? What if Verstael somehow found his way home before Prompto left? Panic had him subconsciously running his fingers over the bruising on his arm. If Verstael was capable of this, what else was he capable of? How big of a mistake was it letting Prompto go through with this?

And then there was the worry about Ignis and Luna. They weren't as prone to Verstael's jabs as Prompto was, but that didn't mean anything, when the man was so obviously a psychopath and would apparently go so far as to take blood from his son for twenty years. Noctis was unable to suppress a groan against the couch cushions, once he gave a dramatic flop to lay face down on the couch.

A couple of seconds passed, before Nyx's voice carried across the large room. "What's up, Edgelord?" he teased. "Sound like you're strugglin' over there."

Gladio snorted. "You can only stall your inevitable defeat for so long, Ulric." The chiding tone left his voice when he turned to look at Noctis, though. "Seriously, though. He's probably worried for the same reason we are, man. Wants to be there for his b-"

Before Gladio could even finish his taunt, Noctis lifted his head from the couch and spoke up. "Prompto's not my boyfriend!" he snapped.

"Wasn't gonna say boyfriend, actually," Gladio mused with a little grin. "Was gonna say buddy. But your reaction said enough, if you ask me."

Noctis grunted in response—only partially because Gladio was doing that annoying big brother thing that he always did—and grabbed one of the couch pillows from the armrest to plant his face into. "I'm worried about all three of them," he murmured against the pillow, but he knew that Gladio and Nyx could hear him.

Nyx hummed his agreement, and a couple of seconds later, Noctis heard the clack of the pool balls hitting each other. "Fuck," he spat.

As Gladio chuckled a soft note in response to Nyx's curse, Noctis heard the sound of footsteps echoing across the floor. "See, I was gonna wait until Nyx lost our bet, but I think with Mopey McWhines-A-Lot over there needin' a distraction as much as we do, we should just call the bet off and drag him along with us. What d'you say?"

Sitting up, Noctis looked at the two men as they smirked at each other. Drag him along with them? Where were they dragging him? He didn't really want to go anywhere, honestly. He kind of just wanted to wait at the compound, for the others to come back, to be sure that Prompto was okay. As he was about to open up and say that, though, Nyx nodded his head and leaned his hip against the pool table.

"As if I'd ever turn down a chance to back out of a losing bet," Nyx grinned, before turning his gaze to Noctis. "Gimme the keys," he commanded, holding his hand out. "We're going to that hunter bar in Lestallum. Grab a couple beers."

The bar. Every time they dragged Noctis to the bar, it always ended with Noctis having to be the designated driver. He honestly didn't see how going to the bar, watching Gladio and Nyx drink, and then driving them home, would help improve his mood. He'd just spend the whole time worrying. Because of that, he shook his head no and waved Nyx off. "I don't wanna have to drive you guys home today, man. I-"

Gladio clapped Noctis on the shoulder, then hauled him off the couch. "Did we say that you'd hafta drive us home? Nyx was losing anyway, and the bet was loser plays designated driver, since we thought you'd be mopin' in your room all day. Nyx'll only have one or two this time. You're old enough to have a couple beers with us, Noct. Don't make me physically drag you, alright? You need the distraction." He gave Noctis a gentle shove to the shoulder, then nodded his head toward Nyx.

"Don't know when I agreed to this, but I guess if it'll get the the Edgelord off the compound for a bit, I can deal." Nyx beckoned for the keys again.

After blinking dumbly between Gladio and Nyx for a couple of seconds, he raked his teeth over his lip. It was true. If he was allowed to actually have a drink at the bar, maybe he wouldn't worry so much about Prompto. With that in mind, he nodded his head once and reached into his pants pocket for his car keys. Tossing them to Nyx, he shrugged. "Guess I could use the distraction," he admitted.

"From worryin' about your boyfriend," Gladio teased, pulling him into a headlock.

Noctis grunted and tried to pull himself from Gladio's grip. "Not my boyfriend!" he rebutted, pointlessly. "Don't-" a grunt, as he tried to yank his head from Gladio's grip- "don't we have to tell Cor and Wesk?"

Ticking his shoulder up in a shrug, Nyx shook his head no. "They already know Gladio and me are going. I'll just shoot 'em a message and let 'em know that we're bringing you along. They'll probably be glad to get your Edgelord ass outta the compound for a little bit," he teased.

When Noctis finally pulled his head free—only for a moment, because Gladio put his arm around Noctis' shoulders and yanked him sideways into a weird neck-hug thing—he made a face at Nyx. "Less talking, more driving, man," he waved a dismissive hand toward the staircase, as the three of them headed toward Noctis' car.

The car ride was filled with a whole bunch of the weird classic rock that Nyx and Gladio liked to listen to, as well as an agreement to play a pool rematch once they all got to the bar. Admittedly, Noctis spent most of the ride completely quiet in the back. The only time that he was somewhat distracted—though not really in the most pleasant way—was when Prompto texted him and told him that they'd just gotten to Hammerhead. Noctis raised his head, and was about to tell Gladio and Nyx, when he noticed that Gladio was looking up from his phone. Seconds later, Gladio relayed the same message from Ignis, then slid his phone back into his pocket. After a return message, reminding Prompto that he promised to be careful, and a response from Prompto that reiterated that promise, Noctis sighed and looked out one of the arches in the long tunnel into Lestallum.

It would be okay. It had to be okay. He couldn't lose anyone else. Not Prompto, not Ignis, not Luna. No one.

By the time he collected his brain, the car was pulling into the Lestallum parking area. He gave his head a hard shake, in hopes of removing those negative thoughts from his mind even further. Lestallum seemed busier than usual today. It was late-summer, so he supposed it made sense. It was warm, and Lestallum was always sort of an epicenter for activity around this time of year. They were setting up for the end of summer festival in the center of town, and once again, Noctis found his mind wandering back to Prompto. Prompto would probably love the festival. Noctis had been several times, though not for a couple of years. If—no, _when_ —Prompto got back, Noctis decided that they would have to go together. A reward for Prompto's bravery, and determination to overcome his anxiety.

Or something like that. If Noctis was honest with himself, he'd admit that it was probably just an excuse to go to the festival with Prompto. To see the smile on his friend's face as they played games and watched fireworks together. The overlook had the perfect spot to watch the fireworks display. Noctis would tell Prompto how proud he was. Prompto would look at him, blue eyes shining behind his glasses, and that perfectly lopsided smile on his face. _"Thanks,"_ he'd say. Then, he'd tell Noctis how much fun he'd had that night, how everything was perfect. _"Completely perfect,"_ Prompto would say. Noctis would tell him how the fireworks looked gorgeous reflected in Prompto's eyes. Then, Noctis would reach up and sweep back the bit of blond hair that always seemed to fall into Prompto's face. Prompto would lean in. Noctis would lean in. And then-

"Eos to Noct. You with us back there?" Gladio's voice broke through his thoughts.

Heat flooded Noctis' cheeks. No, Gladio couldn't read his mind, but he'd _definitely_ just been fantasizing about finally getting to kiss Prompto, and he almost felt like Gladio could tell. He nodded. "S-sorry. Just… distracted." He looked down at the ground as he got out of the car and hip-checked the door shut.

Gladio put his hand on Noctis' shoulder, and flashed him an attempt at a comforting smile. "They'll be alright, Noct."

"Yeah," Nyx agreed. "Cid's got Verstael busy, so they won't even run into him."

Noctis didn't answer with words. Instead, he just nodded and followed along quietly, allowing Gladio and Nyx to think that the Hammerhead situation was the only thing that had his stomach in knots; the only thing that had him distracted. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as a group of decorators wrapped yellow and red streamers around a couple of poles near the outlook. Maybe if—no, when—when Prompto came back from Hammerhead, he'd be able to make his fantasy a reality.

When they walked into the bar, Noctis looked around. It wasn't the first time he'd been here, but it _was_ the first in a long while. The first since he'd reached twenty-years-old and could legally drink with the others. The smell of cigarettes was kind of strong, and Noctis waved a fresh puff of smoke, blown by a guy playing the pinball machine next to the door, from his face. He'd briefly considered taking up the habit himself, back when he was a teenager. When he realized how horrible it smelled, though, he quickly gave up on the concept.

Gladio led him up to the bar, and Noctis glanced at the bartender. The bartender was familiar—the same kind, middle aged woman that had tended bar here for as long as Noctis could remember—and she smiled at the three of them with an eager wave. "It's been awhile since I've seen you three! What's kept you away?" she asked.

"Oh, y'know. Hunting," Gladio answered. It was a short answer, and not entirely honest, but it was way better than spilling the story about their year-long fight to the bartender. Especially now that the fight was over.

The woman chuckled softly. "Suppose that's the polite way of saying 'mind your own business, Jessie,' right?" she winked at Gladio. "The usual, I assume."

Gladio chuckled. "Just for me. And whatever Noct wants," he told her, knocking Noctis in the shoulder again. "Make sure you cut Nyx off after one, though. He lost a bet, so he's playin' DD today." He cast a chiding smirk at Nyx.

Jessie rolled her eyes and turned to look at Noctis. "Oh, that's right! You're old enough not to have to cart these idiots around, huh?" she winked at him.

"Yeah. Guess I'm just lucky Nyx lost that bet or it'd still be me," Noctis mused. "I'll have whatever Gladio's having."

With a smile and a salute, Jessie turned around and poured them their drinks. Nyx's drink was smaller than Gladio and Noctis', and Noctis was unable to stifle a small chuckle behind his hand. The one drink he got, and it was the size of those frilly, fancy drinks. The eye-roll that Nyx threw Noctis' way was about as dramatic as it could possibly be. After a quick goodbye with Jessie—during which she made Gladio promise to bring Ignis with him the next time he came to the bar—the three of them moved to the only free pool table in the room. Noctis somehow managed to get wrangled into playing the winner between Nyx and Gladio, but for the time being, that left him to observe the bar while the two of them played. Matches between Nyx and Gladio tended to be either very short or very long—and almost a hundred percent of the time, they ended up with Nyx losing—so he had plenty of time, and he planned to use it.

After two beers, and two (or three?) shots—that he'd ordered without Gladio and Nyx knowing, after seeing someone at the bar downing them—Noctis was feeling significantly better. Worry about Prompto was still very present in his mind, but clouding it over just slightly was a very pleasant (and ever-growing, as he worked through his third beer) haze of drunkenness.

It was then, as Gladio called out, "eight ball, corner pocket. Hope you're ready to take me on, Noct!" that Noctis spotted a familiar face among the bar patrons.

Standing several feet away from Gladio and Nyx's pool table, one prosthetic arm crossed over the non-prosthetic, stood none other than Ravus Nox Fleuret. He watched Gladio line up his shot as he reached his prosthetic arm out to pick up a glass of white wine and sipped at it. To be honest, Noctis wasn't sure exactly how Gladio's shot went; where it bounced, or if the ball had actually gone into the corner pocket. His attention was too focused on Ravus, who set his wine glass down and took a quick glance around the area. When his eyes fell upon Noctis, and then moved back to Gladio, he stood up. Smoothing a couple of wrinkles out of his sweater, he stood tall and walked toward the table, where Gladio stood, celebrating his victory.

"You see that, Noct? That's what you're up against. Hope you're ready to lose!" Gladio announced.

When, instead of Noctis, Ravus' comment of "it was quite a fine shot, Gladiolus," echoed out into the space around them, Noctis watched as the expression on Gladio's face shifted.

Victory changed to confusion changed to even _more_ confusion, when Gladio turned around to look Ravus over. "Ravus. The hell're you doin' here?" he asked, his expression changing again, this time to suspicion.

For a couple of seconds, Ravus was quiet. His eyes went from Gladio, to Noctis, and then to Nyx, before settling back on Gladio and chuckling a soft note in response to Gladio's question. "I suspect much the same as you. I came to enjoy a drink," he explained, raising his glass of wine to display.

"Not what I meant," Gladio pointed out. "I meant _here_."

There wasn't a real distinction, but there didn't need to be. Ravus knew what he meant. "Well," he started, "for one, I wanted to inform you that Caelum may be slightly more intoxicated than you anticipated. I spotted him at the bar, downing a triad of very strong looking shots. Far stronger than that... his third beer, is it?" His tone was somewhat sarcastic as he turned his attention to Noctis.

Noctis' eyes were narrowed as he looked at Ravus. "Didn' know I needed t'ask permission t'have a couple drinks, Ravus," he slurred.

Ravus shook his head no, momentarily distracting Gladio from where he glared at Noctis. Basically, Noctis would probably have to do a hell of a lot of explaining later, but that was fine. He'd do it, if he had to. "Oh, by no means do you owe _me_ any sort of explanation, Caelum. Your comrades, however, may not be so forgiving. You are, in fact, their default designated driver, are you not?"

"No," was Noctis' only answer.

With narrowed eyes, Nyx stepped between where Gladio leaned over to assess how drunk Noctis was, and Ravus. "So, that's why you came over here, then? To antagonize? 'Cause I could probably have you thrown out for that," he pointed out.

Ravus' eyes narrowed right back at Nyx. "Spare me the gallantry, Ulric. The only person whose knight in shining armor you should be is my sister, and she seems suspiciously absent from this scenario. I believe Caelum is mature enough to handle himself, is he not? He's clearly mature enough to order his own liquor. Black rose, was it, Caelum?" he asked.

A low growl escaped Gladio's throat as he glowered at Noctis, wordlessly telling him that there would be a reckoning later, but he turned to Ravus instead. "Wanna take that shit somewhere else, Ravus? We're not in the mood today."

Sighing another dramatic sigh, Ravus shrugged his head to the side. "Certainly. Though I feel as though you should be slightly more interested in the _other_ reason I opted to approach you today." There was a flash of an odd expression on his face, one that Noctis used to see back when Ravus had worked with their team. It was a slight softness, something that Noctis only saw now on the rare occasions that he talked to Luna.

Nyx and Gladio looked equally confused, too. Nyx was the first to ask, though. "What're you talking about?" he asked.

Ravus' expression hardened, though not to the level that it was at before. The seriousness was there once more, but the dial was turned back from sass to an odd sense of genuineness that Noctis didn't expect to see from Ravus. His voice was low and quiet, loud enough for all three of Noctis, Nyx, and Gladio to hear him, but not so loud as to alert the rest of the bar patrons. "I merely wished to warn you. Verstael Besithia has some... extremely diabolical plans. Plans that even his own people are not apprised to."

"People like you?" Noctis asked, emboldened both by drunkenness and the anger he felt in remembering Ravus' betrayal from three weeks ago.

Ravus didn't respond with words, instead opting to reach up and pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He turned his attention to Gladio and Nyx. "Kindly control your compatriot," he gestured to Noctis.

With a shrug, Nyx said, "seems completely under control to me."

Eyes narrowed at Nyx, Ravus continued, turning his attention to Gladio again. "Tell Ignis, Weskham, and Cor what I told you. He must be stopped, or-"

"Rae?" Another familiar voice came from behind Ravus, and Loqi appeared at his right, Noctis' scowl deepened even further. " _Oh_. Well if it isn't the three stooges. Without the smart blond, the girl blond, and the useless blond-"

Noctis was on his feet with wobbly step, but it didn't take any of the pure hatred from his voice when he addressed Loqi. "Prompto's not useless!" he seethed.

A wicked smirk crossed Loqi's face, and he tilted his head to the right. "I dunno," he singsonged. "I must be onto _something_ here. I didn't specify which one I meant when I said useless blond. Could have been referring to Scientia as the useless blond. Or whatsherface-" Glares hit Loqi from Noctis, Nyx, Gladio, _and_ Ravus with that comment- "but you jumped _right_ to that conclusion. What does that tell you?"

The only thing stopping Noctis from storming forward and decking Loqi right in the cheek—again—was Gladio's hand on his shoulder. "Not worth it, Noct. Cool it." Gladio gave Noctis a gentle push back down into his chair.

From where Noctis was sitting, it looked completely and totally worth it. Loqi had a smirk on his face that Noctis wanted to punch away. With Gladio's hand still holding him in place in the chair, though, all he could do was clench his fists until his fingernails dug into his palms and glare daggers at Prompto's stupid older brother. 

"Loqi, please. I'm not here to cause a scene," Ravus told Loqi.

Loqi shrugged. "Does that mean that I'm not?" he asked.

"Lo-"

But Loqi cut Ravus off. "It's okay, Rae. I just have a vested interest in this group. Y'know, because of the close and comfortable relationship they have to that _thing_ father keeps trying to pass off as my brother. Caelum, especially. Those two are thick as thieves, aren't they? It's rare to see one without the other these days." Eyes that were almost as blue as Prompto's bored into Noctis expectantly.

"S'none of your business," Noctis replied.

Loqi rolled his eyes. "I guess not, no. But if I wanted to, I could just call Argentum right now and get the answer from him. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to hear from-"

Even with Gladio's hand on his shoulder, Noctis stood—albeit a little bit wobbly—and glared at Loqi. "Don't," he commanded. Loqi was the last person Prompto needed to hear from today. Especially not with everything he was already putting himself through.

A grin crossed Loqi's face, and he quirked his head to the side. "Who are you to stop me from contacting him? Family and all. Though I guess I can't really expect you to know what that's about anymore, can I? Not like you have any," he shrugged his hands along with his shoulders, in an exaggerated gesture.

Nyx stepped forward. "That's enough of-"

"Yeah, yeah. Let the Caelum-Argentum defense squad close in." Even as Loqi was talking, though, he took a step back and placed himself somewhat behind Ravus. "Can't change facts, though. And it's not like what I said isn't true, is it?"

However, as much as Noctis' drunk brain _wanted_ to come up with something witty and clever to fire back with, the best he could do was a slurred, "that sweater looks dumb on you."

The looks that Nyx and Gladio cast his way were conflicted. Gladio looked partially like he wanted to burst out laughing—especially after he saw the way Loqi looked completely and totally affronted by the childish insult—but he looked at Noctis with a raised eyebrow. Nyx managed a half-smile at Noctis, but then turned back to Loqi.

"Really, Caelum?" Loqi asked. "That's the best you can do?"

Noctis shook his head. "Your hair looks oily. And Prompto's eyes are prettier than yours." He wanted to sound less drunk, but he was pretty sure that he hadn't pulled it off.

The reaction Loqi gave to that was... well, priceless didn't even seem like enough. His eyes were narrowed to almost nothing, and his lips were pursed angrily. "Nothing about me is inferior to that... that _defect_ , Caelum! Don't you dare compare us!" his voice echoed out through the bar, and any of the patrons who hadn't noticed the scuffle before, were looking now. 

A triumphant little grin crossed Noctis' face, and he shrugged Gladio's hand from his shoulder, stepping forward. "Just callin' it as I see it," he slurred.

"I can not wait until he shows you how weak he is," Loqi stepped forward, too. "I hope he has to run away from a fight like a coward to prove it to you, or that he does something stupid and gets himself killed."

The triumphant feeling faded quickly into sadness, which faded into anger. Noctis didn't need to hear any more. His patience for Loqi was already low. He stepped forward, glaring Loqi down. "Shut up," he commanded.

Loqi stepped forward, too, giving Noctis a mocking pout. "Wonder if, wherever he is, he's already dead, because his _fearless protector_ wasn't there to help him," he grinned.

Both Gladio and Ravus were moving forward to stop the fight from escalating any further, but Noctis didn't care. Alcohol and anger bubbled in his brain, and finally reached a boiling point. Before another word could escape from Loqi's mouth, Noctis pummeled him to the pool table and punched him twice. "Take it back!" he commanded, not that taking a comment like that back made a difference. The fact was, it was a distinct possibility, and that scared Noctis more than he was willing to admit.

"Noct! Cut the shit!" Gladio commanded. "C'mon, calm the fuck down!"

Gladio's hand tugged at his arm, trying to pull him off of Loqi, but Noctis tugged back, refusing to let Loqi get away with talking trash about Prompto. It ended up not mattering, because in the brief moment of distraction that Gladio's tug on Noctis' arm provided, Loqi shoved out against Noctis, knocking him to a nearby table. Two half-empty glasses flew off the table and crashed to the floor, shattering and spreading glass across the floor of the bar. "You know," Loqi whispered, in a voice that only Noctis could hear, "when Argentum does fuck up? I bet he'll curse your name." Before Noctis could even come back to _that_ , sat back up, hauled back, and punched Noctis twice. Once in the lip, and once in the eye.

Unlike with Noctis, though, Gladio was able to yank Loqi back. Not without catching a grazing shot from Loqi's ringed hand across his forehead, but that didn't faze Gladio at all. He shoved Loqi away from Noctis, past Ravus and to the floor. "Get the fuck out of here!" he seethed.

Ravus looked at the group of them, a pointed look on his face. He leaned close to Nyx and murmured for him to "remember what I said," before leaning down and gathering Loqi from the ground. Loqi fought back every step, trying to get back to Noctis, but somehow, Ravus managed to get him out of the bar.

Jessie and a pair of bouncers were looking suspiciously at Noctis, then turned to Nyx and Gladio. While Nyx tried to explain the situation, and tell the bouncers not to just throw them out, Gladio turned to Noctis, shaking his shoulder hard. "What the hell are you thinking, Noct? Drinking too much? Getting into a _bar fight_?" The spot where Loqi's ring grazed Gladio's forehead bled profusely. That was a deep cut, for a small ring.

"I dunno, okay? I just..." Noctis shook his head again, wiping a bit of blood from his cheek. "He kept saying stuff about Prompto, and I-"

With a heavy sigh, Gladio nodded. "Yeah, the fucker deserved it. Can't say I didn't wanna do it myself," he admitted, his anger turning to the tiniest grin. With a glance to the door, he watched through the glass for a couple of seconds.

Noctis turned to look, watching in surprise as Ravus and Loqi bickered on the other side. The pair stormed off, Ravus first, and then Loqi following in a half-run a couple of seconds later. Noctis turned to look at Gladio, his eyes going to the cut on his friend's forehead. "M'sorry, Gladio, I-"

"Don't sweat it, okay? You know I've had worse. But Wesk and Cor are gonna flip their shit, Noct. Prob'ly at both of us. All of us." Gladio looked over his shoulder at Nyx, who approached with one hand fishing in his pocket for his keys.

Nyx pulled in a heavy sigh, letting it out in a quick puff and scratching a hand through his hair. "C'mon. Jessie said she's willing to look this one over, but that we should probably leave for now."

With a nod, Gladio wiped some blood from his forehead before it reached his eyes. "We gotta get back to the compound, anyway. Tell 'em what Ravus told us, and get this shit looked at," he answered, pointing to Noctis' cheek and to his own forehead.

As Gladio and Nyx led him from the bar, Noctis' mind wandered back to what Loqi said. It reminded him of what Prompto's daemon self had said back in Keycatrich Trench, and what Loqi had said the last time they fought. If Prompto did die, and Noctis didn't do anything to help him, would Prompto curse his name? If something happened to Prompto in Hammerhead today, and Noctis couldn't do anything to help, because he'd been forced to stay behind, would Prompto hate him? Fight and anger drained from his drunken mind, and a dark cloud of worry and sadness found its way back in their place. His eyes turned toward the horizon, as if he could see all the way to Hammerhead. Astrals, he hoped Prompto was okay...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOO BOY, this one was fun to write. XD Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, let's assume that the drinking age in Lucis is 20. ♥


	29. Espionage

It felt weird, waiting in an alley in Hammerhead. Hiding. The alleyway was pretty notorious. The walls were almost always covered in graffiti and had never been cleaned, as far as Prompto could remember. Some of the graffiti was from back when Prompto was a kid, the people who bullied him in elementary and middle school drawing weird gang signs and whatever else on the bricks that composed the building on the far western corner of his street. Prompto had taken a ton of pictures of it when it was fresh, admiring the artwork. When the group caught him, they'd accused him of planning to take the camera to the police. They'd shoved him to the ground, broken his glasses, and then broken his camera. Shattered it to pieces.

Prompto remembered the lecture that his dad gave him when he got home, about being a snitch, about being nosy, about how everything that had happened to him that day was his own fault. He remembered being sent to his room, missing supper, and only being allowed to eat because he sneaked out his window and went to see Cindy, who, at the time, was still living with Cid. He remembered sneaking back in his window at ten at night, seeing his broken camera, and crying himself to sleep that night. The only repair his dad allowed on Prompto's glasses was a piece of tape to the bridge of the nose. He remembered being teased at school because of the tape on his glasses, and he remembered it taking Cid insisting, and offering to pay, for him to get a new pair.

He remembered being miserable for three days, even with his new glasses, but waking up on the fourth day to his camera repaired on his bedside table.

Cindy swore up and down, for years, that she had nothing to do with it. Back then, and even now, Prompto wondered who on Eos would have fixed it, if not Cindy or Cid. He hadn't really gotten that close to Aranea at the time, so it wasn't like she would've had Wedge and Biggs fix it or anything. And why was he thinking about that right then? He hadn't seen that camera since Cindy and Aranea bought him his current one, two and a half years ago.

In spite of that, he couldn't stop himself from raising his camera and snapping a picture—with his flash off, obviously—of the years-old graffiti. A reminder to himself, and a story to tell Noctis someday, maybe.

Right now, there were way more important things to worry himself about. Cid's tow truck drove by, with Cid casting half-a-glance in the direction of the alleyway they hid in. It was subtle enough not to be seen unless someone was looking for it, and Prompto was confident that his father wasn't looking for it. Earlier that morning, Cindy had told them that the parts that Cid broke on Verstael's car would take hours to properly repair. At the very least, they would need fifteen minutes to a half an hour to get into the apartment and get what they needed. If, by some circumstance, they were caught, Prompto had the airtight defense of wanting to get a few more things from his room. It would be okay. They would be okay.

Luna looked back at him, a gentle smile on her face as she raised her arm and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll be alright, Prompto," she promised, rubbing her thumb along the front of his shoulder.

"Mhm," Prompto agreed, though there was a tiny bit of doubt obvious in his voice. "It's... it's important, anyway. I was fine when it was just me. But... Noct. You know?" He raked his teeth over his lip and swallowed thickly. Affecting him was one thing, but affecting Noctis was something completely different.

With a nod, Luna placed her other hand on the side of Prompto's face, a caring and sisterly gesture. "You're brave, to do this for him," she told him. "I'm sure he appreciates it."

Astrals, did Prompto hope so. He shrugged his head to the side. There was a comment on the tip of his tongue about a willingness to do anything in the world for Noctis, but he bit it back, opting instead to tell Luna, "I just hope we can get to the bottom of it," with a nervous smile.

"We will," Luna reassured him. "And then, I'm going to have to get on Noct's case about taking you to Altissia to see Ignis' glasses guy. You can't keep hunting with cracked glasses."

Prompto's eyes moved up to glance at the crack in the corner of his right lens. "So... y-you guys are cool with the two of us going alone?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. He wasn't sure if he succeeded or not.

Judging by the tiny grin on Luna's face, he wasn't sure he had. "Of course we are," she reassured him. "We just need to get through this, and you'll be good to go. So, what do you say we focus on now, and worry about later when it happens?" She dropped her hands back to her sides and then turned back to glance at Ignis.

Focus on now. Prompto's gaze fell to look at the ground, his eyes catching sight of the bruising on his elbow. The second day was always the worst. It looked darker than before, the purple looked almost browner now, and had faded into yellow around the outside. The pinprick in the center stuck out, a shade of violet-red that Prompto had only ever seen created artificially. All these years, could it have possibly been his dad doing this to him? He shook himself out of his own head, and turned to look at Ignis and Luna.

Ignis, who looked far tenser than Prompto had ever seen him, dared himself to peer around the corner and toward the parking lot where Prompto knew his dad's car was parked. "Cid is hooking Dr. Besithia's car to the tow truck," he explained to Prompto and Luna when he turned back around. "Dr. Besithia is making a scene."

Sure enough, when Ignis stopped talking, Prompto's dad's voice could be heard carrying down the street, complaining about wasting his day waiting in the garage for a repair that they hadn't even identified yet. There were several insults thrown Cid's way, and they continued until a pair of slamming vehicle doors echoed even louder through the street. Prompto figured that Cid would drive in the opposite direction to get to the garage, and he was proven right when the sound of Cid's old truck's engine echoed through the space around them, then faded the opposite way.

Prompto's heart leaped up to his throat when he realized that this meant that it was time. Pushing back any lingering anxiety, Prompto tried to put on a brave face when he strode forward to join his friends at the mouth of the alleyway. Before Ignis gave the order to take off, Prompto adjusted the strap of his messenger bag on his shoulder and breathed a steadying breath inward. It was only when they got to the front step of the apartment, when he realized that he'd been holding his breath the whole time. He let it out all at once, pulled in a sharp gasp to refill his empty lungs, and then turned to look up at the apartment building. It was funny, in a way that wasn't really funny at all. He'd lived here for twenty years, but in under a month, the compound already felt more like home than this apartment ever had.

He raked his teeth over his lower lip, and then turned to look at Ignis and Luna. His friends looked at him expectantly, and it was only then that he realized that not only would he have to cope with being in the apartment again... but he'd probably have to go first, too.

 _For Noct. It's... for Noct. You can do it,_ Prompto told himself, as he turned and opened the front door to the apartment building.

Ignis looked nervous, and Prompto fully understood why. This whole situation was nerve wracking in the worst possible way. While Prompto trusted Ignis' recounting, the fact of the matter was that his father was at Cid's garage, and the garage was only a short walk from Prompto's dad's apartment. Prompto had taken it almost every day when he'd lived here. That was why Luna was here, though. She looked a bit nervous, but she was the most together of the three of them. Ignis followed a little too closely behind Prompto and crashed into him twice as he climbed the stairs. Luna, though, was far enough behind them that she was mostly unaffected by their stumbles and nerves.

And then, the moment of truth arrived. Prompto reached into his bag, fumbling around for the keys to the apartment. In the span of two seconds, he grabbed them, almost dropped them, secured them in his hand, and reached for the doorknob. If the key fit, his dad hadn't changed the locks and... well, Prompto wasn't sure _what_ that meant, honestly. Did it mean anything? Did it _have_ to mean anything? A gloved hand clasping his shoulder dragged his mind from the torrent it was spinning down, and he turned to see Ignis, flashing him a supportive expression. Not a smile, but Prompto suspected that none of them felt like smiling at the moment. Sucking in a slow breath, Prompto took the hint and put the key into the lock. The key turned, the knob turned, and the door creaked open.

"He didn't change the locks..." Prompto murmured in a voice just above a whisper.

No one said anything as they walked into the building, and it was Luna who finally broke the silence. "Are there any windows that overlook the street, Prompto? Where I can get a clear view of any direction he would come from?" She immediately cast her eyes around the apartment, likely searching for exactly what she'd just asked Prompto for.

Prompto nodded. "The nook in the—in what was supposed to be the dining room—is a good place." At least Prompto had always thought that it was supposed to be a dining room.

It really wasn't a bad apartment. It had way more potential than Prompto's dad ever let it reach. Cindy and Aranea always said that his dad kept it that way to ensure that it wasn't livable for anyone, but that didn't make sense, did it? His dad lived there, too. Why would he want to make himself miserable? As Prompto looked around, memories swirling around in his head, he couldn't help but notice that something obvious was different. Everything in the living room was packed into boxes. Big boxes, some of which weren't even closed, were filled to the brim with paperwork, notebooks, and other research equipment. They were stacked high on every surface in the room.

"Wh-what's-"

Ignis placed a hand on Prompto's shoulder again, giving him a look that was equal parts understanding and urgent. "Prompto. I know that you have an attachment to this place. I understand it, to a degree. But we can't allow ourselves to be distracted here, alright? While Cid has promised to keep your father busy, we can't guarantee that it's foolproof, therefore-"

Prompto nodded again. "Y-you're right. I'm... I just..."

Sympathy won out, and Ignis reached out, pulling Prompto to him in a gentle hug. "It's going to be alright. We'll be back on the compound before you know it, right?" he reassured Prompto.

"R-right." Prompto reached up and returned Ignis' hug. He wanted to be reassured, but he didn't quite make it. "I'm okay. Thanks, Ignis."

Ignis looked like he could see through the lie, but he didn't say so. Instead, he dropped his arms back to his side and pulled in a deep breath. "Right then. To the office. Would you like to come with me, or would you rather go to your room and see if you can gather a couple of things before-"

Honestly, Prompto wanted to go to his room. There were still things that he needed to pick up. Chief among them was an old camera that didn't work anymore, but one that he kept as a sentimental reminder of the fact that once, a long, long time ago, Loqi hadn't hated him. His memory of the time before Loqi started hating him was very limited. He didn't remember when or why Loqi changed his mind, but he remembered it happening suddenly. As young children, they would play together. Neighbors always told Prompto stories about how he and Loqi would stay at the playground until way past sunset, playing silly games that they made up. Prompto wished beyond wishing that he could remember them all. But he couldn't. And now Loqi hated him, and he'd never get to hear about them from someone who _did_ remember them. He wanted to get that camera, because it was one of the few things he remembered from that time, but what Ignis was here for was far, far more important.

Before he could say so, though, Ignis nodded down the hall. "Go get what you want to get, and then come to the office with me," he suggested.

Admittedly, even with the okay from Ignis, Prompto was still hesitant. Pushing past it, though, he nodded his head and turned, walking slowly down the hall toward his bedroom. Every step in this hallway felt like it was attached to its own bad memory. The table where Prompto used to hide when his dad had that creepy business associate with the burgundy hair (and the weird obsession with Prompto and Loqi) over. The corner that used to house his dad's trophy case, until Prompto tripped and accidentally broke it one day. The lack of pictures on the walls, that Prompto only ever noticed when he started going to Cid and Takka's place, and then to Cindy and Aranea's place, and seeing pictures all over their walls.

By the time he got to his room, he was more than glad to get out of the hallway. Most people thought of their bedroom as an escape from the world, but growing up, Prompto had never really had that feeling. Once again, Prompto held his breath as he reached down and took the doorknob in his hand. He opened the door and looked around, and his heart sank.

All of his things were gone.

His bed wasn't even there anymore. None of his clothing or his trinkets, or any of the things he'd left behind when he departed from Hammerhead... there was almost no sign that he'd ever lived in this room, to begin with. The only things that Prompto could see that tied him to the room at all were the tiny tack holes in the walls from things he'd hung up. He was frozen in place as he looked around for _anything_ of his. The clothes he'd left behind—winter clothes; he'd planned to ask the others about coming back for them later in the year—were gone, as was the collection of CD's that he'd put together since he was a kid. The table in the corner, where he'd stored that old camera, was stacked with boxes instead.

Had his dad gotten rid of everything? Maybe it was in the boxes. Could he allow himself to hope? He approached the boxes, like they held the potential to crush his heart. It was true enough, honestly. He swallowed thickly, then pulled the flaps from the box one by one.

A frown crossed his face when he looked inside. It wasn't a camera, or winter clothes, or CDs, or anything like that. The box was filled to the brim with paperwork. Prompto's eyes went to the closet, and he tried to ignore the flash of painful memory that flared up when he thought of the times that Loqi would trick him and lock him in the closet. Cindy always suspected that as the reason that Prompto was claustrophobic, and it made sense, in a way. He didn't like to think about it, though. Just like he really didn't want to look in that closet. If there was a chance that the stuff he was looking for was in there, though, he had to suck it up and try.

The double doors opened, and Prompto felt his heart sink. The closet was completely empty. Everything of his was gone. His dad had gotten rid of all of it. There was no sign that he'd even lived there. Tears sprang to Prompto's eyes, and he blinked hard, forcing them back. He'd moved away. He was supposed to be free from this. His father wasn't supposed to hold this much sway over him anymore.

But, he'd taken everything that Prompto had left, and Prompto had no clue where any of it was. What if he'd sold it? Or thrown it away? Prompto choked back another wave of tears before he closed the closet door again, and turned on his heel to leave the room. There was nothing for him in here. One more glance over his shoulder, and Prompto left the room behind. He closed the door behind him, leaned against it, and ran his hands along his face. It was almost like his dad was trying to erase him from existence. It shouldn't have hurt. He'd never really gotten the impression that his dad loved him that much, after all. But it did. It hurt a _lot_. More than it had any right to.

Later. He could deal with it later. Pulling in a heavy breath, Prompto headed down the hall to join Ignis in his dad's office. It occurred to him that this was his first time ever actually stepping foot inside of this room. As a kid—hell, even as an adult—the room had scared the hell out of him. His dad would berate him for even considering stopping at the door, and the one time that he'd tried to bring his dad dinner while he worked, Prompto was called a list of horrible things. As he looked around, though, he blinked in surprise. Half of the room was boxed up, and between that and the rest of the apartment, Prompto had to wonder if it meant something.

"Prompto?" Ignis called, from where he stood by a large black counter.

Several dozen notebooks littered the surface, as well as a pile of crystals like Prompto had never seen before. Some of them were blue, but some of them had changed color to a dark, menacing, purple. Surrounding them were several small glass syringes, with the needles unhooked. Some were full, some were empty. There were charts, with diagrams of the human body and diagrams of different daemons; diagrams of Hour Twenty-Five crystals and diagrams of things that Prompto couldn't even begin to explain. Ignis had a notebook open in front of him, but instead of looking at the pile of horrible things on the counter in front of him, he was looking at Prompto expectantly.

His tone was still calm. "Did you get what you need from your room?"

Prompto frowned. How did he even answer that question? The short answer was, "turns out there wasn't anything I needed there..." And that was all he said at the moment. Maybe later. Maybe, when they weren't in a hurry, he'd tell Ignis. Or Noctis. Someone. "Have... um... have you found anything?"

"I have, actually. Though I won't be able to look it over in detail until we return to the compound," Ignis explained, as he gathered a couple of notebooks from the table. "Do you mind if we put these in your bag, Prompto? I'm afraid my satchel is already quite full, and there's still much that I would like to bring with us." He pointed at a composition notebook that was filled with encrypted scribbles.

With a nod, Prompto walked around the table and unhooked the latch to his messenger bag. Admittedly, it felt a little bit strange to be walking through this room, but in the same way, it felt defiant. Like he was laughing in the face of the rules that he'd been forced to follow his whole life. It simultaneously made him nervous and felt kind of good. Like he wasn't as weak as everyone always said he was. Ignis put two notebooks and a pair of syringes—taken from the back row, the last one in each of the cases—as well as a pair of crystals from each of the purple and blue piles, into the bag. The syringes and crystals he wrapped, each in a few pieces of paper towel. They were tucked in among the paperwork and notebooks.

Ignis took another glance at the table, likely canvassing for any last bits to take with them, when all of a sudden, he paused. He stared at a piece of paper on the table for a few seconds, before craning his neck down to get a slightly closer look. "The Disc of Cauthess," he murmured.

"The Disc of Cauthess?" Prompto repeated back, an eyebrow arched as he moved toward the table to see what Ignis was looking at.

With a nod, Ignis pointed down at the piece of paper. "In all of the paperwork I've seen, in all of the notebooks in your bag and mine both, and even in the one notebook back at the compound, there has been one commonality. Of the things that aren't encrypted in the mysterious code your father uses, the Disc of Cauthess appears the most. Whatever he is researching, it somehow ties to the Disc."

Prompto pondered what Ignis was saying, even as Ignis picked the piece of paper up and held it out to Prompto to put into his bag. In the back of his mind was a question, as to whether they should be taking this much from his dad's office. Ignis was the strategist, though. He wouldn't do anything that he didn't think was smart. He bit back his reservations, glancing at Ignis while he slid the paper into his bag.

"Isn't... um... isn't the Disc off limits to hunters?" Prompto asked.

Ignis hummed in acknowledgment. "Indeed, to most hunters it is. Our group is exempt from that. Despite that, we've never actually been required to go there before. So, we never have. It's said to be exceedingly treacherous." He paused, glancing down at all of the remaining research on the table, then glanced back at Prompto. "However, I feel as though we may need to go there soon."

Prompto considered that carefully, set his messenger bag down on the counter, and then raked his teeth over his lip. "If it'll get answers, I... I guess. I mean, you guys have been looking for answers your whole lives and... and you definitely deserve some. I'll do whatever I can. To help you." To help all of them, but maybe selfishly, especially to help Noctis.

"It's for you, too, Prompto," Ignis pointed out, adjusting his satchel bag on his shoulder. He was smirking a knowing smirk, despite his words. "Whatever is in these files could possibly account for all of those years of unwanted needles in your arms."

Maybe. To Prompto, it really didn't feel as important as making sure that Noctis—and all of Prompto's new friends, of course—got the answers that they and all of their families had been searching ages for. He was about to say that aloud, but he didn't get a chance. Before he could speak up, hurried footfalls echoed down the hallway, and Luna's voice rang out through the room.

She was whisper-shouting, and her eyes were wide with panic. "He's coming. I'm unsure how I missed his approach, but he's very close to the building," she admitted. "One moment, I was looking down the western street, and then when I looked back, suddenly, he was almost at the door..." Her voice was obvious in its attempt to stay calm, but her facial expression completely gave her away.

Honestly, Prompto didn't need her cues to be panicked. His dad was here. Somehow, he'd managed to get away from Cid, and walked back to the apartment. Had any of them gotten a message from Cid to warn them about it? Prompto tugged his phone from his pocket quickly to check, only to see that he had no reception in his dad's office. What about Luna, though? Had she gotten a message? It didn't matter. What _did_ matter was that the situation had just gone from bad to about a thousand times worse, and now, all they could do was retreat and hope that they didn't get caught. He pushed his phone back into his pocket and looked back up at Ignis.

Ignis, too, looked panicked. He looked from Luna to Prompto, as he hurried them all toward the door to the office. "Prompto, is there an alternate way to get out of here quickly? Before he has a chance to-"

"Th-there's the fire escape!" Prompto nodded. "There's an exit to it at the end of the hall. It'll take us to the main street, and if we hurry into the alley by the building, he won't see us!"

With a nod, Ignis motioned for Luna to go before him. Prompto took up the rear, and the three of them darted quickly down the hall. When they got there, when Prompto looked up to see Ignis helping Luna up and out the window, he realized something very important. His messenger bag, with all of the information they'd come here to collect in the first place, still sat on the counter in his dad's office. A sharp gasp, and Prompto hurried back down the hallway, toward the still-open door.

Ignis called after him. "What are you-"

"Go!" Prompto motioned to Ignis. "My messenger bag is... go! I'll catch up!" he promised.

It didn't look like Ignis was going to listen, but Prompto nodded his head vehemently as he paused for a brief second in front of his dad's office to motion for Ignis to continue. Only when Ignis ducked out the window and onto the fire escape did Prompto continue. He picked his messenger bag up from the counter, then took off in a mad dash, in an attempt to get down the hall and out the window before his father got up the stairs. Unfortunately, in his panicked rush, his bag got caught on the door handle, and then the strap ended up pulling the door closed, and getting caught in the closed door.

Though it took a couple of seconds to right the ship, Prompto eventually did, and then hurried down the hall. Halfway there. He was in the clear. He'd made it.

Or so he thought.

The sound of the door creaking open shouldn't have been enough to make him freeze in place, but it absolutely was. And had it not been, the sound of his father's footsteps heading in his direction would have done it. A chuckle, familiar in its derisiveness and contempt, sounded out through the hallway, and Prompto felt his stomach drop. He hadn't made it.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:]
> 
> I love you guys. ♥


	30. Unease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild vomit warning.
> 
> Also, I would not have been able to finish this chapter without [nicoleiacross](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/pseuds/nicoleiacross)' help! Thank you, friendo. I appreciate it. You should all go and leave her love on her companion pieces, linked [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11412138/chapters/25564185) and [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11433297)! They deserve more love!

"I must admit, I had full expectations that they would grow tired of you and send you back to me, but I never expected it to happen this quickly."

Prompto winced at the words, and the tone of his dad's voice when he spoke them. Mocking. Taunting. Showing Prompto what he already knew—that his dad had never expected him to succeed with this new group of friends, this new family—and trying to make him break down and show weakness. Well, not this time. He pulled in a breath, trying as hard as he could to make himself tall as he turned around to face his dad. The breath was an attempt to puff out his chest, but when he caught sight of the look on his father's face, all of that bravado, the entire aura of confidence that he'd built around himself, crumbled down to the ground.

Still, he tried to defend himself. "N-no," he stammered. "I'm... I came back to get some of m-my things. My... my winter clothes and my music collection and... and my old cameras. I... I was trying to get them out of your hair, s-so..." He swallowed back nervousness, trying to level out his voice a little bit more.

His dad hummed a half-second-long hum, and glanced toward the door to Prompto's former room. "The clutter. Shame. Most everything that you left behind has either been sold, thrown away, or given to Loqi. Either way, it's long gone now," he explained dismissively, waving a hand toward the room.

"I-it isn't clutter!" Prompto's voice was shaky, but he shook his head vehemently at his dad. Subconsciously, he pushed his messenger bag behind him. Prompto's heart thrummed a fast beat in his chest. His dad's notebook and research materials were sitting in his bag. If he saw them... Prompto was dead. Maybe even literally. Trying to shake that off and bring some of the indignation back to his face in place of the fear, and act like he hadn't already discovered that his things were gone, Prompto spoke. "It's my stuff! My clothes and-"

Verstael laughed a soft note. "I presumed that because you didn't bring it with you, you had no desire for it anymore." A pause and a wry grin, and he continued. "Was any of it _actually _yours, though? How much of it did you truly purchase with your own funds?" He walked down the hall, brushing past Prompto, and stopping at the window. "Not even what you carry on your person is all yours. Your clothing, sure. Not your glasses, though. And that messenger bag? A gift from me, if memory serves."__

__As soon as his dad mentioned the messenger bag, Prompto froze. What if his dad asked for the bag back? What if he asked Prompto to empty it, and put all of the stuff Ignis had taken on display? Prompto pulled in a slow and steadying breath. He wasn't sure which part was more painful; the fact that everything his father was saying was true, or the fact that his father was even reminding him of it to begin with. Swallowing fear, Prompto tried to push it out of his mind. The fear _and_ the jabs that his father threw his way. He pushed the messenger bag further behind him, hoping beyond all reason that his father wouldn't ask._ _

__When Vetstael stopped in front of the window, humming a thoughtful note and then leaning his head outside and looking both directions, Prompto considered making a run for the door. Before he got a chance, Verstael pushed the window closed and locked the latches.  Then he turned back toward Prompto.  There went his quick exit. "You know, Prompto," he started as he turned around, "I would have imagined that between you and your brother, one of you would have been satisfied to stay here with me. Now you've both run off to _try_ and function on your own." His tone, as well as his words, dripped with sarcasm._ _

__But Prompto latched onto one thing. "Loqi's..." Free. Loqi was free. In spite of everything that had happened between them, Prompto couldn't help a little swell of happiness at the thought that his brother was free. He didn't have to listen to their father anymore, either._ _

__Prompto didn't get to finish his question, though. Verstael sighed a heavy and put upon sigh and nodded his head. "Indeed. Though I don't think it's really any of your business where he's gone, no? You've all but denounced any connection to this family to run off with Highwind and Aurum, and that band of insipid do-gooders that seem to have poisoned you against me." He frowned. "Gratitude is quite a fickle mistress."_ _

__To be honest, Prompto didn't know what to say to that. It should have been easy. He should have been able to just speak up and tell his dad that he didn't deserve gratitude. The fact of the matter was, though, that despite everything else, the man had taken him in when he was a baby. Prompto wouldn't be alive if his dad hadn't done that. Whatever else he may or may not have done, he'd definitely done that, at least. Still, even with that, he couldn't muster an apology. Because he _wasn't_ sorry. Not for growing up, not for moving out, and not for finding more people than just Cindy and Aranea who seemed to like him for who he was._ _

__"Um... wh-why is the apartment packed up?" Prompto dared himself to ask. He met his dad's eyes for a second, but the look of disappointment—almost disgust—that he got in return made him shrink back a little further. "If you don't mind me asking. S-sir."_ _

__His dad heaved a sigh. "I'm moving, obviously," he pointed out. "Back to Niflheim. It's blatantly clear that there's no reason for me to stay. With my ungrateful sons spreading themselves throughout Lucis, throwing themselves at the first people who deliver them kind platitudes, why would I care to stay, Prompto, hm?" He crossed his arms over his chest._ _

__Prompto flinched. "D-dad, I-"_ _

__"No. It's absolutely fine. Twenty years of care, and not a single phone call to reassure me that those simpletons didn't leave you stranded in Keycatrich Trench, or the Disc of Cauthess." The pointed look on his father's face almost made it seem like he knew exactly how leading his comments were. Keycatrich Trench, where Prompto had almost died. The Disc of Cauthess, where all of his dad's research led. Very specific examples, and very relevant ones. "You've made your point. You chose them over me." A brief pause, and Verstael continued. "Of course, what do you _really_ know about these people?" he asked. "They could be any number of things. Con artists. Murderers. _Thieves_." That was accompanied with yet another pointed look Prompto's way._ _

__Before Prompto could reply to that, though, his dad continued. "Let us hope that they don't throw you out like your birth parents did, shall we? I can't imagine you being lucky or charming enough to be saved by someone _else_ for you to take advantage of for another twenty years."_ _

__His birth parents. Prompto wanted to show a steeled expression at that, but he couldn't help but wince. It was a fear of his, being discarded again. Because of that, Prompto wasn't going to say anything at first. At first, he was just going to let his dad go off, and then make a run for the door as soon as he had the chance. Now, though, a bubbling combination of anger and sadness boiled up in his chest. No matter what his dad thought of Prompto, what he thought about Noctis, about all of his new friends, he was wrong.  He had to be. They would never throw him away. Never._ _

__Would they? What if Prompto screwed up so badly that they had no other choice? Or what if they just got tired of the way that he'd flinch away from the slightest yell sometimes? It wasn't like there weren't reasons for them to cast him out. Prompto felt the heat of tears in the corners of his eyes, but he refused—downright _refused_ —to cry in front of his dad. The last time he'd done that, he'd been called weak, childish, a baby. Instead, he opened and closed his hands, trying to compose his response in his head, before steeling himself where he stood, and speaking._ _

__Though Prompto wanted to sound confident, he couldn't. His voice was still shaky, but he didn't let it stop him. "I... I don't take advantage of people," he muttered. "I always do what I can to... to help when I'm allowed to. These people... my new friends... they would never throw me out. They would never... they'd never make me feel useless like you do. They always tell me how much I help them, and how proud they are of me, and how glad they are that I'm there." His voice had raised a little in volume, desperate to make himself believe the words._ _

__It was working, too. By the time he finished, he sounded as passionate as he felt. "They're _nothing_ like you! They're... they're my _real_ family, and I... I'm going back."_ _

__To say that his dad looked surprised was an understatement, and Prompto felt a swell of pride in the way he'd managed to stop his dad from speaking. It only lasted for a couple of seconds, though. A curled, wicked smile edged into his father's expression, and he hummed thoughtfully. "Of course, Argentum. Have it your way. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an office to pack up." He breezed down the hallway, walking past Prompto and stopping in front of his office._ _

__An office. To pack up. Prompto's eyes shot wide open like a rolling curtain, when he realized that much of that office was sitting in his and Ignis' bags. His dad opened the office door and, before he ducked in, turned to Prompto and said, "kindly leave my apartment. I don't suspect I shall see you again anytime soon.  Oh, how I certainly hope that you're correct about your new friends. How will you survive without me to turn to?"_ _

__Without waiting for a response from Prompto, he shut the door. As soon as the door clicked shut, Prompto took off in a dash down the hall, through the living room, and out the door. If his father followed him, he didn't see. The door closed behind him, and he was surprised to see Ignis and Luna hurrying up the third flight of stairs to get to the apartment._ _

__"N-no," Prompto called to his friends. "Go. Go now! He just... he just went into his office and..."_ _

__Ignis nodded, wordlessly telling Prompto that he didn't need to say anything more. The three of them turned around and dashed back down the stairs. Prompto was almost positive that, before they got all the way down, he heard the door to the apartment open and close, but he didn't stop. He ran, as fast as his legs would take him, keeping pace with Ignis and Luna, until they reached the street. They stopped for only a couple of seconds, long enough for Ignis to direct them to the alley that led around Prompto's dad's apartment building and to the next street. Closer to where the car was parked._ _

__Luna seemed to tire before anyone else—a side effect of her illness, she told them—so all three of them stopped, and Ignis directed them to a small, dead end alley. It was far enough away from the apartment that it would, at the very least, take his dad a decent amount of time to find them, if he was chasing them. Luna collapsed into a heap, sitting on the ground, gasping desperately for air. Ignis leaned against the wall, staring up at the sky, and trying to catch his breath as well. Prompto, though, put his hands on his knees and leaned over. Anxiety and exertion culminated into a feeling of nausea, and before Prompto realized what was happening, the nausea won out. At first, it started as dry heaving. Dry heaving because of nausea wasn't a foreign concept to Prompto. It hadn't happened in a long time, but the situation added up, and clearly his body felt like it was long overdue._ _

__Dry heaving quickly turned to actual vomiting, though. Prompto hadn't vomited from anxiety since he was in middle school. With a heavy cough, the lunch that Ignis made, that they'd eaten in the car on the way here, found its way back up through Prompto's system, and into a disgusting puddle on the ground. Prompto teetered on his feet, and nearly losing balance, before Ignis appeared at his side and helped to stabilize him. A second retch, then a third shorter one, and Prompto hung his head in shame, embarrassment and exertion combining to shade his cheeks a dark pink._ _

__Tears, both from embarrassment and the natural tears that came with vomiting, rolled down his cheeks. Luna appeared at his other side, still a bit unsteady, but offering her arm to support him alongside Ignis. Prompto still gasped for air, but he stood up straight with both of his friends helping him._ _

__"I'm..." he rasped, his voice heavy from the strain of vomiting, "I'm sorry. I-"_ _

__Ignis shook his head no. "Don't apologize," he offered, his tone gentle and quiet, but still a little breathless. "Are you alright?"_ _

__The short answer was no. His stomach, though empty, still churned uncomfortably. His head hurt a little bit, and he just wanted to go home, curl up, and sleep until he didn't feel so horrible. Instead of saying so, because he didn't want his friends to see how pathetic he was, he just nodded and reached a hand up to wipe his face._ _

__Before his hand could reach his face, though, Ignis stopped him. "No, not your hand." He reached into the pocket of his corduroy pants and handed Prompto a handkerchief._ _

__"I'm-"_ _

__Ignis shook his head no. "No apologies. Collecting vomit is no different than collecting mucus," he pointed out with the ghost of a smile. Just as quickly as it appeared, though, it was gone._ _

__As Prompto wiped the corners of his mouth, Luna reached into her purse, pulled out a pack of gum, and handed Prompto a piece. "Here, Prompto. It's spearmint," she offered with a gentle smile._ _

__Prompto accepted the gum, and glanced at the handkerchief, glancing over at Ignis. Ignis smiled gently and accepted it again, folding the cloth and putting it back in his pants pocket. Before Prompto could ask if he was okay with having a dirty piece of cloth in his pocket, Ignis pointed out, "I need to wash them later anyway, it's okay," with an attempt at a calm smile. "Besides that, I'm no stranger to cleaning up messes. I've always taken care of Noct when he was ill."_ _

__"And that's no easy task," Luna added, urging Prompto to open the gum. "At least Noctis certainly doesn't make it easy."_ _

__After a few seconds of silence, during which Prompto unwrapped the gum and put it in his mouth, Ignis broke the silence. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked._ _

__Prompto stared at the ground miserably, shrugging his shoulders. "I... not really," he admitted. "But I don't... now's not the time. Right? We... we have to get back to the car and get back to Lestallum." He stopped short. "Back home." Because that was his home now. Not Hammerhead._ _

__Luna and Ignis exchanged looks, and then Luna nodded at Ignis, placing a hand on Prompto's shoulder. "When we get to the car, though, I would very much like if you would tell us everything that happened, alright?" Her tone was gentle._ _

__Equal parts of Prompto did and didn't want to tell them. He didn't want to recount everything his dad said, or explain how stupid he'd been to get his bag caught in the door. At the same time, though, he knew that he had to. If he was a part of this team, if he _really_ wanted to be a part of this team, he had to _be_ a part of the team, and share what he knew. Even if it was painful. That ended up winning out in the end, and he nodded glumly at Luna. "Um... alright," he told her._ _

__The trio walked through the Hammerhead streets to get back to Ignis' car in a half-rush. Each of them was too tired to hurry, but they were _kind_ of in a hurry, because they had no idea if Prompto's dad was going to head back to the garage. Admittedly, it would be easier to deal with it if the others were there with him. Ignis and Luna wouldn't let his dad say or do anything too cruel to Prompto. Neither would Cid. Cid was never hesitant to tear into Verstael when he tried to do his thing. Because of that, he allowed him self to relax just slightly. Only a little bit. Enough so that the still-bubbling nausea in the pit of his stomach calmed itself to a gentle churning. Luna's gum helped, too. His breath already tasted better, and in turn, he felt a lot better._ _

__Well, a lot was an overstatement. Now that things were quiet, he thought back to the part _before_ they'd had to run like mad. His dad. Not all of the things he'd said; Prompto was used to those by now. They still hurt, sure, but not as much as they did when he was a kid. Prompto's mind was focused more on the fact that his dad was moving back to Niflheim. Prompto was equal parts surprised and not. His whole childhood, he always heard his dad and Loqi talking about how much better Niflheim was than Lucis. All of his dad's friends, too—people who looked at Prompto like he was a waste of space—lauded Niflheim as this place that was a thousand times better than anywhere Lucis had to offer. Prompto couldn't understand that. Places like Lestallum existed. Places like _Galdin Quay_ existed. From the impression Prompto got, Niflheim was heavily industrial. Who in their right mind would prefer a place like that over a beautiful beach like the one at Galdin Quay?_ _

__That didn't matter. What did matter, was the fact that with his dad gone, maybe Prompto could find his way closer to happiness, without having to worry about the man breathing down his neck anymore. Despite the fact that his stomach still churned, despite the fact that his throat still burned from throwing up moments ago, Prompto couldn't help the tiniest smile. His dad was moving. He was free. Loqi was free. Maybe... maybe there was the tiniest chance that he and Loqi could be real brothers someday._ _

__No. No, that was insane. Loqi told him hundreds of thousands of times that they _weren't_ real brothers, and technically, he was right. Both adopted, both abandoned children, they'd never been real brothers, and they never would. Still, Prompto wished that they could find their way back to the way they were ages ago; back to being friends._ _

__As they walked, Luna and Ignis talked, discussing some of the things that Ignis found in Prompto's dad's office, but Prompto didn't join the conversation. Instead, he idly blew bubbles with his gum to occupy his mind, and eyed everything as they passed. Familiar, but sad. The playground where people said he and Loqi used to play. It was old now, rusted and overgrown. The equipment was falling apart and a lot of bits and pieces of it were missing, like people had raided the place for scrap. All the kids played at the playground at the elementary school now, anyway. Prompto remembered the day they closed the old one down. He was there, looking on sadly when they demolished the place. A couple of times, Prompto could swear that he saw Loqi on the far edges of his vision, but every time he thought that, he'd look over and there would be no one there._ _

__Silence enveloped the walk when they got to the elementary school. School was out for the summer, but the place wasn't abandoned. Kids played on the swing set, laughing and enjoying themselves. A father pushed his daughter on a swing. A group of kids played tag in the open field. Prompto broke the silence with a sigh. Usually, when Prompto was a kid, he only went to the old playground when no one else was there. No one to bully him, sure, but no one to push him on swings or play tag in the field, either. At least, not until he met Cindy and Aranea._ _

__And Cid. He realized now that he'd been lost in his own mind for the whole walk back to the Hammerhead garage. Cid was inside, likely working on Prompto's dad's car, and Ignis' car was sitting in the parking lot, parked outside of obvious view. Before they continued toward it, though, Prompto called Luna and Ignis' attention._ _

__"Do... do you mind if we go and see Cid? Thank him?" No, he hadn't exactly been successful, but he'd gotten Prompto's dad out of the apartment for long enough to allow Ignis to get what he needed. It was definitely still worthy of gratitude._ _

__Ignis' vehement nod indicated that he agreed. "Yes, of course. I was going to suggest something similar, though I suspect that we should drop our things off in the trunk of my car. On the off chance that Verstael finds his way back out here," he pointed out._ _

__With a nod of agreement, the three of them moved toward Ignis' car, and Prompto and Ignis both slid their bags into the back of the car. Admittedly, as soon as the trunk closed with a loud 'SLAM,' Prompto felt a swell of relief that he couldn't exactly ignore. No more chance of being caught with all of that research. Anxiety still churned his stomach, but he suspected that it was equal parts residual, and caused by just being in Hammerhead to begin with. Running a hand though his hair, he followed behind Luna and Ignis as they made their way to Cid's garage._ _

__When the door opened, Prompto felt the tiniest smile cross his face when he heard grumbling coming from beneath his father's car, which sat on the lift. "Dang Niff cars. Never be as good as good ol' Lucian make," he muttered. "Hope them kids're okay. Dangerous territory, they're draggin' themselves into. Just like Reggie'n his crew."_ _

__"Cid?" Prompto called out._ _

__A grunt of surprise came from under Verstael's car, followed by a low thud, and then a muttered curse. "Prom? That you?" he called._ _

__Prompto hummed an affirmative answer. "Um... s-sorry, I didn't mean to st-"_ _

__"What'd I tell ya about apologizin' for everythin', huh?" Cid answered as he rolled out from under the car. Before Prompto could answer, he sat up and glanced at Ignis and Luna. "What're y'all doin' here? Ain't Besithia still out there?" As he spoke up, he glanced out the small window that separated his garage from the waiting room. The room was empty, though._ _

__With an annoyed curse, Cid turned to look at Ignis. "Sorry 'bout that. Told the bastard to wait there. Had my assistant try'n keep him there, too, but guess he wouldn't listen." He lifted his baseball cap, then scratched a hand through thinning hair, and placed the hat back on his head. "Y'all didn't run into him, didja?"_ _

__Ignis bit his lip, then glanced over at Prompto. "Prompto did, unfortunately," he pointed out._ _

__"Sorry, Prom. Y'alright?"_ _

__Frowning, Prompto shrugged a shoulder. "I... I will be," he answered, nodding his head and trying to smile._ _

__With a frown, Luna placed a hand on Prompto's shoulder. "While he didn't catch us doing anything terribly unsavory, when he notices that what we took from his office is actually missing, he'll likely believe that it is all Prompto's doing now," she pointed out. "He didn't see me, or Ignis. We managed to get out just in time, through the fire escape."_ _

__Cid frowned. "Prob'ly not too bright for y'all to be here then, is it? Why ain't y'all already on the road? Get away from the situation," he suggested._ _

__Of course, Cid was right. Prompto winced when he realized it, and then glanced toward the door, through the window to the parking lot. There was no sign of his dad, of course, but that didn't mean that he wasn't coming. Raking his teeth over his lip, he nodded his agreement. He didn't leave, though, before he stepped forward two steps and reached his arms up to hug Cid. "I just... wanted to thank you," he muttered._ _

__"Not much to thank me for, is there?" Cid answered, reaching up to hug Prompto back. "If you ran into-"_ _

__Prompto shook his head no. "No. N-not just for that," he admitted. "For... for everything. For always looking out for me, and for... for always being there." For taking care of him, and for ensuring that he didn't end up like his dad._ _

__To that, Cid laughed a soft laugh. "Nothin' you need to worry yourself over, kid," he answered, patting Prompto on the back. "Cindy'd never have forgiven me if I didn't, right? An' you're a good kid. Don't let no one ever tell you otherwise, alright? Not your old man, not your brother." He pushed back from the hug, putting his hands on Prompto's shoulders. "You found yourself a good group of friends. A good family, if they're anything like their folks. Long as y'all come back to visit once in awhile," he paused, glancing over Prompto's shoulder at Luna and Ignis, "and take care of my girls, I'm glad you're with 'em."_ _

__"Your girls are settling in quite well, actually," Luna pointed out._ _

__Cid nodded. "I know. Cindy calls me every day. Sometimes twice," he chuckled fondly. "I'd complain if I didn't love every second of it. I miss 'er, but Talcott's a good assistant, and it was time for her to get out and see the world." He paused, nodding toward the door. "And it's time for you to see the world, too, kid. Get outta here. If y'all want this scheme to work, you need to leave."_ _

__As Prompto backed toward Ignis and Luna, Ignis smiled at Cid. "We appreciate your assistance, Mr. Sophair," he bowed his head._ _

__"None'a that. Cid's just fine. Y'all will be real happy to know that, thanks to some mysterious side effects caused by whatever's making Besithia's car go mental," a sly smirk crossed the old man's face, "his fuel efficiency's gonna be down about 60%. Gonna be one hell of a trip next time he needs to leave town, dontcha think?" Cid saluted them with a tip of his hat._ _

__Prompto couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face, and a glance at Luna and Ignis showed that they were similarly pleased. Before any of them could say anything more, Cid shooed them toward the door. "Now get on outta here, you three. Go home." And without another word, he turned back to work on his car._ _

__After a short goodbye, which ended with Cid telling them to 'skedaddle,' Prompto left the garage with Luna and Ignis. He wasn't okay yet, not by a long shot. Still, he'd managed to face his father without faltering _too_ much today, and he'd helped Ignis get what he needed to continue his research into Hour Twenty Five. For now? For now, he was feeling pretty good._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to note! I plan on wrapping part one of this story up in a few chapters! I'm not sure _exactly_ how long it'll take to get there, since I still have a couple of things to do between now and then. When I _do_ wrap it up, though, part two will be coming along _pretty quickly_. I already have the whole rest of the series planned, after all!
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!


	31. Support

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeey, there's a new chapter of the Gladnis companion piece to this fic, [Echoes in the Dark](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11412138) up! You should go check it out! My esteemed collaborator, [nicoleiacross](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/pseuds/nicoleiacross) worked super hard on it! ♥

Despite the cup of expensive, Tenebraen coffee that an angry Weskham had made him down, and the second one in front of him, Noctis was demonstrating a remarkable ability to not sober up. The lecture he got from Cor for fighting in a bar had only lasted as long as it took for him to explain exactly _why_ he'd picked the fight to begin with. Once he explained what Loqi said about Prompto, all protests died on Cor's lips, and the purpose of the lecture changed to one about drinking on a night that they had a mission, and drinking to cope with anxiety in general. When the lecture finally finished a half an hour after Noctis got home, the haze had faded by about half, but not completely disappeared. Cor and Weskham had departed to make some phone calls and see what hunting assignments were available for them that night, leaving Noctis alone in the dining room with Iris and Crowe.

Each second that ticked past without Prompto, Ignis, and Luna's return, Noctis worried more. He sat in the dining room with a second cup of coffee in front of him. He'd been home for almost an hour now, and if anyone had heard from Ignis, Luna, _or_ Prompto, no one had told him about it yet. Maybe they hadn't heard anything, or maybe there wasn't anything to tell. Maybe they were just on the road, and everything was fine, so they hadn't seen any reason to make a big deal about spreading the news. There had to be some reason that Weskham and Cor hadn't told him anything yet, right? And it was perfectly reasonable. It wasn't like something was wrong. Right?

But what if that wasn't true? What if something _was_ wrong? What if he was right to be worried? What if the three of them were hurt somewhere, or what if Verstael had caught them somehow? What if they were trapped somewhere? If they never came back, and Noctis never got to see them again? Never got to tell Prompto that he...

Noctis tried to force that thought away. No. No, they were all fine. They had to be.

"Damn, Edgelord," Crowe's voice cut through the silence as she stabbed a couple pieces of chickatrice meat on her fork. "Sigh on your food any more and it'll taste like your breath. I know you're a weirdo and all, but even _you_ probably don't wanna eat something that smells like a brewery."

Noctis lifted his head to look at her, rolling his eyes and then stabbing at a piece of chickatrice meat, popping it into his mouth. "Har har," he snarked.

To Crowe's left, Iris giggled into her hand. "He got drunk enough to smell like a brewery anyway, Crowe," she pointed out, as she unscrewed the top to the antiseptic bottle she held in her hand. "He probably wouldn't even notice it." Pulling out a couple of cotton balls, she doused them with antiseptic, and waved them in the air in front of Noctis' face in a wordless request to clean the cut.

With a scoff, Noctis glared at the doused cotton ball in Iris' hand like it spelled certain doom for him. It was probably true enough. The cut on his cheek was small, but touching _anything_ with a cotton ball soaked with rubbing alcohol always burned like hell, and he wasn't looking forward to it. His eyes flicked up to look at Iris, and he pursed his lips. He knew that she wasn't above catching him by surprise with something like this. She'd done it before, and he knew that she was more than willing to do it again. With that in mind, he sighed another sigh and tilted his head to the side, displaying the cut to her.

"I'm gonna make a sigh counter. Every time he sighs, you and me get to come up with another new nickname for him. So far, we're at about four for the night. So... retroactively..." Crowe tapped her finger on her chin, and glanced up at the ceiling. "Captain Broods-A-Lot, Sleepy McEmopants, Drunkasaurus Rex, and..." a pause, and she looked at Iris. "Which one do you like better, Moog? Phantom? Don Quixote? Cyrano?"

Noctis blinked at Crowe. "Wait, what? Phantom's cool. That's probably the coolest nickname you've given me, honestly," he spoke, still slurring just slightly.

Iris smirked. "The Phantom of the Opera," she pointed out. "Hopelessly pines for that one girl but is way too much of a wimp to ever say anything."

All Noctis could do in response to that was blink. A blink which turned to a hiss of pain when Iris touched the cotton ball to his cheek. "Ow! You coulda warned me!" he pointed out. "N'I don't pine. Who'm I supposedly pining for?" A stupid question. A _really_ stupid question. One, however, that Noctis' slightly drunk mind didn't _register_ as stupid, so he just continued on like it _hadn't_ been stupid.

Crowe rolled her eyes. "Christine Daae," she deadpanned. "Oh no wait. That was the actual Phantom of the Opera. Never mind." She gave Noctis an incredulous look as she jabbed another piece of chickatrice meat with her fork and ate it.

"So," Iris started, ignoring Noctis' wince of protest as she touched the cotton ball to his cheek again, "you're meaning to tell me that you're _not_ interested in a certain blond haired, glasses-wearing, freckled, sweetheart that just so happens to be your roommate? Because if you aren't, I know someone who is. I could totally hook them up."

Noctis' eyes widened. "Who?" he asked, far too sharply and quickly to be seen as nonchalant.

Iris shrugged her shoulders. "Not important. I held off on telling Prompto, 'cause I thought you were into him and everything. But if you're not, then I'll-"

Jealousy was not Noctis' favorite feeling in the world. It wasn't something he liked to admit that he felt, but the thought of someone else with feelings for Prompto… well, he was probably just a little bit green. And if he was green, it was probably noticeable to both Iris and Crowe. "I… who's it?" he asked.

"Doesn't matter," Crowe insisted. "We're not telling you until you tell us if you're into him or not."

Noctis eyed Crowe and Iris suspiciously. Crowe was clever. She was one of Noctis' best friends in the world, sure, but she was always the first to come forward with a tease. Noctis' drunken mind was hazed enough to believe that she was being sincere right then, though. Iris had apparently started taking cues from Crowe's personality. It made sense. Noctis assumed that dating someone meant that you started to adapt bits of their personality to your own. Whether Iris and Crowe were dating was equal parts mystery and obvious, but if they were, they were a pretty prime example of personalities rubbing off on one another. Iris, too, was looking at Noctis with a deadpan expression.

Pressing his lips together, Noctis weighed the option of whether he wanted to tell them about his feelings for Prompto or not. On one hand, he wondered what it would hurt. Regardless of how much they teased him, they wouldn't go behind his back and tell Prompto about his feelings. They were like his sisters, and they always looked out for him. They _would_ , however, try and push him to tell Prompto. He could hear it now. Still, if he wanted to know who else was interested in Prompto, if he wanted to know who his competition was, he needed to tell them the truth. It wasn't like they wouldn't know if he was lying.

That was his drunk mind's logic. He shrugged one shoulder and turned to glance at his plate. "Think you already know the answer t'that question," he mumbled, a slight slur remaining in his speech.

"Maybe. We'd know for sure if you told us, though," Iris pointed out, poking him in the shoulder, before grabbing another cotton ball from the bag and dousing it in rubbing alcohol again.

Crowe nodded her agreement, pointing at Noctis with her fork. "And if you wanna know who you're up against, you'd better just be upfront," she insisted.

Shrugging his head to the side, Noctis raked his teeth over his lip. "I mean... yeah," he muttered, setting his fork down on the table and heaving a soft sigh. "Course I do. Like 'im, I mean. He's... great. One of the best people I know. And he's... he's cute. And nice. Smart, funny... my best friend." It might've been the still-drunk state of Noctis' mind, allowing him to tell the truth. Especially since he didn't even have the excuse of being blackout drunk and not remembering to use later on. He couldn't help it, though. He _did_ like Prompto. A lot.

The smirk on Crowe's face was wide, and she nodded her head. "Good. Glad you admitted it," she mused, picking up her iced coffee and taking a drink.

"Now, all we have to do is tell Prompto and-"

Noctis cut Iris off with a shake of his head, which made the drunken dizzy mess spin a little bit. "No. You guys miss the part where I said 'best friend?' S'not like I can just, y'know, find 'nother one of those anywhere, guys. Like, f'I tell him and then I screw it up somehow? And then it gets all weird... and I screw up our friendship because of it?" He'd never forgive himself.

With a huff of laughter, Crowe looked at Iris and said, "he's hopeless."

Iris scoffed, and shot Crowe a gentle glare. "Crowe. C'mon." She turned and looked back at Noctis. "You wouldn't screw it up, Noct. Everyone always says that relationships aren't easy, but they are. It's literally just thinking of someone else's happiness other than yours. Finding a way to share happiness together, and share sadness together. And I mean, you already do that with a lot of people. But especially with Prompto." She held the cotton ball in front of him again.

As he nodded to tell her that it was okay to dab at the cut with the cotton ball, he shrugged one shoulder. "Right but... every other time I've liked someone, I always find some way to screw it up. Or I misjudge 'em. 'Member Pietas? From Altissia?" he muttered, while Iris dabbed the cloth against his skin and then threw it with the other used ones.

"Ugh, _that_ guy." Crowe rolled her eyes. "Man, when Nyx told me that we had to fuck that dude's day up for breaking your heart? I don't think I'd ever been that happy." She smirked wryly. "I was super proud of the whole Nair-shampoo thing we did."

Iris giggled. "I still don't know how you got into his house..." she mused as she capped the antiseptic.

Smirking, Crowe shrugged. "Sometimes, Hour Twenty-Five has its uses," she pointed out.

Noctis _hated_ thinking about Pietas. It was a shining example of why he was so bad with relationships; why he didn't trust his judgment about things like that. Pietas was an Altissian boy who had flirted with Noctis all night at the Choco Mog Carnival in Altissia a year ago. He'd whispered honeyed words in Noctis' ear and told him how beautiful and amazing he was. The boy had convinced him to fool around in one of the many Altissian back alleys. They'd separated with a promise to connect the next day and walk around the carnival together again, but when Noctis ran into him while walking the carnival with Crowe, Iris, Nyx, and Pelna, Pietas started by ignoring him. Later that night, it got worse. Pietas told all of his friends how 'easy' it was to get Noctis to sleep with him, and they'd teased him mercilessly until he went back to the apartment to sulk.

To be honest, Noctis still wasn't sure how Crowe and Nyx got word of that. Noctis never told them. After two days of planning, though, they'd sought revenge for Noctis. Between their Nair prank, Ignis and Gladio's baring-down threat to Pietas' face, and Noctis' dad's conversation with Pietas' parents... well, Noctis never heard from Pietas again.

It didn't really hurt anymore. That much, anyway. But it _did_ prove to him how bad he was at judging people. Prompto was nothing like Pietas, Noctis didn't think. Still, it made him wonder if the feelings that he sometimes caught coming from Prompto were just wishful thinking; his mind seeing what he wanted to see.

Shaking himself out of his spiraling train of thought, Noctis looked from Crowe to Iris. "Wait. You guys never told me who else's interested in Prompto..." he pointed out.

"Oh. That? Yeah, I was totally lying to get you to tell me the truth," Crowe answered, waving Noctis off nonchalantly and smirking wryly.

Iris nodded. "Crowe suggested we try it when we got the chance. We've all been like 'oh my god there's so much sexual tension between those two that it's ridiculous,' and 'Nea pointed out that it didn't matter, since neither of you would ever admit it. Y'know? So Crowe and I were talking about it last night, and we came up with this plan," she smiled as she shrugged her shoulder, moving toward the wall first aid kit to put the antiseptic and cotton balls away.

Smirking, Crowe nodded. "Was just a bonus that you're a lightweight and totally plastered, so you're like, eight thousand times more open. I'm nothing if not good at finding advantages," she winked and shot finger guns at Noctis.

Huffing, Noctis started twisting his face into a glare. Before the glare fully materialized, though, surprise rose up in its place and he blinked. "Wait. You said... you've all been talkin' about it." All. As in, more than just Crowe and Iris. Noctis had heard Aranea mentioned, which probably meant that Cindy was there, too. Was it more than just them? The others, too?

"I mean," Crowe shrugged, "yeah. Everyone can see how into _him_ you are. It's not like we're talking trash about you behind your backs or anything. Right?"

Iris nodded her head again. "Exactly. We just want you two to be happy, and are all pretty aware that the best way for that to happen is for you to get together. You're lucky, though. Nea and Cin talked us out of a plan that involved us locking you two in the closet until you started making out." The smile on her face wilted just slightly.

At first, Noctis wondered why the smile had went away like that. Before he had a chance to speak up and ask, though, the door opened, and Gladio appeared—the fresh cut across his forehead immediately drawing Noctis' attention—and pointed toward the driveway. He didn't even wait for them to greet him, or to ask what was going on, before he spoke up. "Iggy and the others are back," he announced, before letting the door fall closed and running to greet his boyfriend.

Behind him, Noctis saw Nyx jogging past the door and toward the driveway, and he tried to hurry to stand and follow. His swirling mind wouldn't allow it, though. Instead, he stood slowly, teetering on his feet and bracing himself on the table. From across the table, he heard Crowe making a comment about him being a lightweight, but even as she chided, she was hurrying around the table to help him stay standing. With Crowe's hand on his shoulder, keeping him steady, Noctis left the dining hall and breathed in the evening air. It still wasn't enough to sober him.

As they approached, Noctis saw that most of the rest of the group was there already. Aranea and Cindy were surrounding Prompto, and Aranea had her arms protectively around him in a gentle hug. Nyx was hugging Luna, who seemed the most 'together' of the three, though she looked completely exhausted. Ignis was answering a flourish of questions from Weskham and Cor, while fussing over Gladio's forehead with a less-than-impressed expression on his face. Though Noctis couldn't really hear what he was saying, he could tell from the expression on Ignis' face that he was criticizing the cleaning job that Gladio did on his own forehead.

Just as quickly as they appeared in her vision, Iris bounded up to Ignis and Gladio and threw her arms around Ignis' neck, distracting his attention both from Gladio and from the question that Cor was asking. Cor didn't complain, just went quiet, and turned to look at where Noctis and Crowe still approached slowly. Noctis was stumbling over his own feet, and Crowe gave him a gentle nudge and teased him every single time. Ignis spotted him a few seconds later, and heaved a heavy sigh. Seconds after Iris released him, he'd abandoned the conversation with Cor and Weskham with a promise to tell them the details later, and walked—with his hand still tightly wrapped in Gladio's, dragging his boyfriend along—over to Noctis and Crowe.

"You order a drunk Edgelord?" Crowe asked Ignis with a wry grin.

Ignis laughed a laugh that didn't hold much humor. "I should say not," he answered.

Crowe snorted a laugh and shrugged. "Well, take 'im anyway. I see a distressed Queenie over there and I really wanna go and offer a bitching session with me and the Moogle over some hot cocoa." She glanced at Noctis, and then at Ignis. "But be easy on him, alright?" she smirked gently. "He had his reasons. And they're pretty good." She turned to look at Noctis, before transferring his teetering form over to Gladio, who held him up with much more ease than Crowe had. "Easy there, Cyrano. You and Muscles have already seen too much bloodshed for the day." Even as she spoke, though, she gave him a gentle punch to the arm and then hurried over to Luna's side.

When Crowe departed, Ignis' attention went to Noctis. "Honestly. I'm glad that you two are close again, but now I'm reminded that I can't leave you two alone for _one day_ , without you doing something ridiculous." He put two fingers from the hand not holding Gladio's on Noctis' chin, turning his head to get a better look at Noctis' cheek. "At least yours is cleaned better than Gladio's."

"Iris did it," Gladio pointed out, turning to look at his sister, who appeared on Ignis' other side.

She nodded. "I was gonna take care of Gladdy and let Crowe get Noct, but Gladdy insisted that he could do it himself. He made me take care of Noct." She shrugged her head to the side. "I should've known better than to trust him there," she smirked.

Gladio grunted a noise and rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, guys. I cleaned it. Ain't like it's a huge gash anyway, so it's nothin' to make a big fuss over." He turned to look at Noctis. "His either, really. Tummelt just wears one of those stupid gaudy rings that looks like it belongs on a frou frou rich guy's hand. Really ugly, but hurts like a bitch when it catches your skin. Eh, Noct?"

Noctis nodded. He was paying attention. Kind of. But the way Ignis was holding onto his chin put his eyes right on the spot where Aranea and Cindy were comforting Prompto. It was good that he had them. That, no matter what Prompto went through, they were always there for him, to hug him and tell him that it was going to be okay. He couldn't really see Prompto's face—it was buried in Cindy's shoulder now as he hugged her tightly—but he could see the tension in Prompto's posture. Prompto looked tired, stressed, sad... a thousand different emotions all at once. While Noctis was happy to be around Gladio and Ignis, he really wanted to go and see if Prompto was okay.

Sighing, Ignis released Noctis' chin, which snapped his attention away from Prompto. "Fortunately, that was the hand that came into contact with your cheek, and not your eye," Ignis pointed out. "How, exactly, did you find yourself this level of intoxicated? You smell like a brewery."

Biting his lip, Noctis shrugged. "I saw someone at the bar doing shots. I wanted to try it..." he murmured.

"And now you know how much of a mistake it was, hm?" Ignis asked.

Noctis nodded again, and when Gladio explained exactly what had happened, how Noctis had taken the shots when Gladio had sent him for another round of beers, Noctis found his eyes wandering back over to Prompto. This time, Prompto was looking back at him. Their eyes met over the short distance separating them, and Noctis frowned. The blue eyes that Noctis loved so much were sad. He wasn't okay. What had happened in Hammerhead?

It seemed like Ignis noticed where Noctis' attention really was, and with a gentle chuckle—one that surprised Noctis, actually. Hadn't he just been mad a second ago?—he nudged Gladio gently. "I think we should leave Noctis and Prompto in one another's care, don't you?"

Before Noctis had a chance to react, Iris and Gladio were grinning on either side of Ignis. Gladio nodded, and immediately started escorting Noctis in Prompto's direction. Noctis didn't even have a chance to register where they were going before they got there. Aranea and Cindy seemed to notice before Prompto, and Cindy waved a greeting at Ignis.

"Sorry we couldn't reign your man in when you weren't around. Or this one," Aranea said to Ignis as she pointed from Gladio to Noctis, in lieu of a greeting.

Ignis chuckled softly, his smile slightly more genuine. "It's quite alright. I'm sorry we couldn't avoid contact between Prompto and Dr. Besithia," he countered. "I do believe that makes us even?" The smile on Ignis' face was slightly more genuine, but there was a tension and concern in his eyes that looked like it went deeper than just concern for the fact that Noctis was drunk. Deeper than the concern for the gash on Gladio's head. Even deeper than concern for the look on Prompto's face.

 _What had happened in Hammerhead?_ Prompto had been in contact with his father? Suddenly, Noctis was fighting with a very real, very visceral need to close the distance between them and hold Prompto tight. He had so many questions, but he worried about his ability to say what he wanted to say, with his head spinning with booze like it was. Despite that, he and Prompto locked eyes again. They didn't exchange any words, they didn't really need to. Prompto looked away, his eyes miserably on the ground as his frown deepened. The very second they were alone, Noctis was going to find out what had happened.

As though she'd read his mind, Cindy glanced from Noctis, to Prompto, then back to Noctis. She elbowed Aranea gently in the ribs and nodded her head quietly in Noctis' direction.

Aranea nodded, a tiny smile showing through the concern in her expression. "Why don't we help you carry the papers from Skinny's bag over to your research space? Prom, you don't mind helping Drunky here get somewhere safe, do you?"

"Um... huh?" Prompto asked, his attention snapping back up to Aranea. "I..." His eyes moved over toward Noctis and met his eyes again. "No. Of course not." Even with that answer, though, the embarrassment, the shame in his voice, was hard to ignore.

Noctis was embarrassed too, honestly, at how it was almost like he was being passed from person to person. There was a protest in the back of his throat, an urge to tell Prompto that he didn't need to help Noctis if he didn't want to, but a selfish corner of Noctis' mind—mostly fueled by its addled state—wanted to be a little bit closer to Prompto at the moment. He didn't say anything. Just draped his arm around Prompto's shoulders and watched as the others all retreated to Ignis' car.

Prompto's touch felt pleasant and warm, as he wrapped his arm around Noctis' upper back. His arm came into light contact with the scar across Noctis' back, but in stark contrast to when most people touched it, it didn't make him jump. Maybe that was because he was the only other person in the world who knew how severe the injury had been. Or maybe it was because Noctis was too drunk to care at the moment. One or the other was true.

"Hungry?" Noctis asked, breaking the silence. It was the most awkward silence to exist between the two of them since back on the train on the first night they'd met.

With a shrug, Prompto nodded. "Y-yeah. Kinda. I skipped dinner. Wasn't really feeling it when Iggy passed it out in the car, so..." He trailed off, awkwardly glancing down at the ground.

Noctis nodded. "Wesk made some chickatrice rice stuff. There's some leftovers in the kitchen," he suggested. "M-maybe... maybe we can talk in there?" It seemed like they both had a lot to say. At the very least, Noctis was endlessly curious, endlessly _worried_ , about what had happened to make Prompto look like the most miserable person in the world.

The answer of, "yeah," that Prompto gave as the pair of them started toward the kitchen, only served to make Noctis more concerned.

In the back of Noctis' mind was a vow. If Verstael Besithia had hurt Prompto in any way—more than he had been for Prompto's entire life, anyway—Noctis swore that he was going to make the man pay, in an incredibly painful way.


	32. Heartfelt

Instead of eating in the dining room, they'd taken their meals, and gone back to their cabin, up and onto the second-floor porch. There was a small table, that Noctis explained—in slurred, drunken words that sounded just as miserable as Prompto felt—was where he used to come to draw. The table had two chairs, and Noctis explained that when his dad was alive, they would just sit there and talk. That Noctis' dad would bring lunch, and they would sit there for hours, talking about everything and nothing. _"Since he died, I haven't really felt like coming out here. Now's probably okay, though,"_ he'd said, while he filled his plate with a fresh helping of dinner. Prompto felt special, probably for no reason, for being allowed into this part of Noctis' world once again. He didn't say as much aloud, though.

It had taken a bit of luck and a lot of balancing on Prompto's part, to get a still-drunk Noctis up the stairs. At one point, Prompto was pretty sure that he was carrying both plates of food, _and_ supporting the entirety of Noctis' weight so that he didn't fall. He'd done it, though. They made it up the stairs and through the door, onto the porch, neither of them any worse for wear. Aside from Noctis' drunken stumbling, anyway. Once they got there, though, things were incredibly quiet. Noctis moved his food around on his plate, in a very similar manner to the way Prompto had when Ignis made him dinner a few weeks ago. He looked equal parts relieved and miserable, and it almost made Prompto forget about everything that had happened to him that day, to worry about that instead.  It took about five minutes of just sitting in silence, for Noctis to speak up. When he did, it was about the last thing Prompto ever expected. He probably should have, though.

"'M sorry I wasn't there. With you. In Hammerhead..." Noctis murmured. He poked at the food on his plate, not eating, but staring intently at it instead.

Prompto shrugged, turning to look away from Noctis as he scooped a little bit of rice onto his fork. "I mean, I'm kinda glad you weren't. I'm... I'm not super thrilled that it happened the way it did, or anything, but... but I'm glad you weren't there." For a lot of different reasons, but the strongest was the fact that the situation was completely humiliating. Prompto had almost cried a whole handful of times, his clumsiness had been the reason that he'd run into his dad, to begin with, and he'd thrown up in a back alley in Hammerhead. He didn't want Noctis to see him like that. He didn't even want to _tell_ Noctis about it, honestly.

Noctis turned to glance back at him for a second, a flash of surprise and then disappointment crossing his face, then frowned. "Oh," he replied, picking up his cup of iced coffee and taking a sip.

Blinking in surprise at Noctis' dejected tone, Prompto realized how that must have sounded. He wasn't actually glad that Noctis hadn't been there. If anything, he wished that Noctis _had_ been there, but he really didn't want Noctis to see him floundering and weak like he'd been earlier that day. He bit his lip, hard, and glanced back at the forkful of rice. "I… didn't mean it like that," he admitted. "It's not like I didn't want you there. It probably would have been a ton easier if you were. Definitely would've. B-but... I was… I was a wreck, Noct. I ran into my dad. I almost got caught with the stuff Ignis is putting away right now."

After a pause, Prompto admitted, "I didn't want you to see me like that. I… I was embarrassed that Ignis and Luna even had to see me like that and-"

"I wouldn't've cared," Noctis answered, jabbing at a piece of meat on his plate. "I wanted to be there, y'know? I don't even know what happened, but... maybe I could've helped. Maybe I could've helped make it easier. Or… or something."

Prompto bit his lip. "Maybe.  Probably," he agreed. "I know I would've felt better, at least. With you there, I mean. I always feel better when you're around." It was a candid confession. In fact, just saying the words made heat creep up to his skin.

All Prompto could hear coming from Noctis' seat was silence. A silence that was only broken by the sound of Noctis' fork scraping his plate. When Prompto dared himself to glance up and look at Noctis, Noctis had the tiniest shadow of a smile on his face. At least, it was the closest that he'd come to one since Prompto got back to the compound. Prompto wasn't sure what to make of that, but he was glad— _really_ glad—that Noctis had a smile on his face again. Even if it was hidden behind drunkenness and a layer of worry and sadness that still hadn't gone away.

Scratching a hand through his hair, Prompto scooped some rice onto his fork. "It wasn't even really all that bad," he admitted. "I mean... it wasn't great. It usually isn't when my dad's involved. But, you know. He... he just kinda-"

"Is an asshole?" Noctis interrupted, looking at Prompto from under a curtain of dark hair, with a serious expression on his face. "That's pretty much the impression I'm getting." He looked down at his meal again, and started stabbing the chickatrice meat with a lot more vigor than he'd been using before.

Prompto wanted to disagree. He wanted to say that his dad _wasn't_ an asshole, that there was _something_ redeeming in there, somewhere. For years, he'd held out hope that it was in there somewhere, but the more time that passed, the more he realized that if there _was_ anything in there, if there ever had been, it had been gone for years. With his eyes down on his own plate, he didn't respond with words. Instead, he just sighed and shoveled more rice onto his fork. Yeah. His dad was an asshole.

There was a blanket of silence over them again, and Prompto refused to meet Noctis' eye as he forced himself to eat another forkful of his meal. He'd thrown up the only thing he'd eaten today. He had to put something in his stomach. When he flicked his eyes back up again, he noticed Noctis looking at him. His eyes were lined with gentle concern, kind of like the look he always got from Aranea or Cindy or Cid when he'd had a particularly rough day, only a little bit different. Or maybe it was only different because Prompto felt differently about Noctis than he did about everyone else. Maybe Prompto was just seeing it differently.

"What happened?" Noctis asked, clamping down hard on his lip shortly thereafter. "That you didn't want me to see? I... if you don't mind sharing."

At the same time, Prompto did and didn't mind. Noctis never judged him. Noctis had heard about a lot of his weaker moments, and had never thought anything less of him for them. Prompto thought less of himself for them, though. No matter how great Noctis was, no matter how good he was to Prompto, the fact of the matter was that Prompto had proven today that he hadn't really come as far in getting over his anxiety as he'd thought. Just the sight of his dad, just a single conversation, had reduced him to a cowering, vomiting, mess. Still, as he looked up, the curiosity and concern, in Noctis' eyes was enough to convince him that even if he didn't _want_ to tell his friend, he should.

So, he did. He started from the beginning, from how he'd felt, standing in the alleyway with Ignis and Luna while he waited for Cid to pick his dad's car up. That explanation was quick, though, because it wasn't as important as what happened once they got into the apartment. From there, he explained that his dad hadn't changed the locks, then he explained that the whole apartment had been boxed up for what Prompto would eventually find to be his move back to Niflheim.

"Good," Noctis had answered. "Get him the hell out of Lucis. Away from you."

While Prompto agreed, that it was great for his dad to be away from him and away from Loqi, far away, in a whole different country, he couldn't help the bitter feeling. He didn't reply to that, beyond a simple nod as he looked down at his meal and moved some chickatrice around in the rice. Instead, he continued. "Yeah. So, while Ignis looked through his office and Luna went to the nook in the dining room, I went to my bedroom." His expression fell further.

Noctis nodded. "You wanted t'get your stuff, right?" he asked, craning his neck to try to meet Prompto's eye.

That made Prompto's frown deepen, and Noctis completely abandoned his meal, turning his full attention to Prompto. He stood up on unsteady, drunk, legs, picked his chair up, and moved it over so that he was sitting closer to Prompto. Before Prompto could even react to the proximity, he felt the familiar warmth of Noctis' hand wrapping around his. He twined their fingers, brushed his thumb along the top of Prompto's hand—that was new, that was something he hadn't done yet, and it made Prompto's cheeks flush as he turned to look back at his plate—and flashed Prompto a gentle, urging look.

Prompto responded with a sad smile, as he looked down at their entwined hands. Now he understood why it made Noctis feel so much better. It really was a simple gesture, but... Noctis' hand was soft in most places, but calloused in some, and warm. And gentle. And Noctis'. That was probably the most important thing.

It made Prompto's smile a little bit less sad, and was exactly the encouragement he needed. After a couple of seconds spent staring at their linked fingers, Prompto sighed and continued. "He got rid of everything."

Noctis blinked. "Everything what...?" he asked, his tone low and dangerous, but inquisitive.

"My stuff..." Prompto answered.

Sapphire blue eyes shot open like Noctis had just been jarred from sleep. "Wait, what? He got rid of... your stuff? All of it?"

Prompto nodded. "He said it was clutter, and that he thought I didn't want it, because I-"

"That's... no. No, that's fucked up," Noctis seethed, his eyes narrowing just as quickly as they shot open. "You didn't say you wouldn't come back for it. And he could've called, right? Could've asked you if you wanted it or something." His speech still strung together a little bit awkwardly, and Prompto could tell that his reaction was the best attempt he could give to seem sober. It meant a lot.

That didn't change the fact that Prompto had lost a lot of things that he couldn't get back, though. With a shrug, he sighed softly. "I mean, most of it wasn't really mine," he pointed out.

Noctis arched an eyebrow. "What d'you mean? You said it was your stuff, right?"

"Yeah. 'Cause you use something long enough, and it starts to feel like yours." Prompto shrugged. "But my dad reminded me that... nothing I owned was really mine. Almost nothing I have _now_ is really mine. It's all stuff other people gave to me. Even my camera. Cin and Nea paid for it. My bag, my dad bought. I bought my glasses, and my clothes but..." He sighed, his eyes glued to the table. He didn't want to cry right now, but he could feel it coming. "But nothing else I have is... is mine. I don't-"

Noctis shook his head, squeezing Prompto's hand gently to grab his attention. "Hey. That's bullshit," he insisted, trying to sound calm. Prompto had seen the anger in his eyes, though. "You know how gifts work, right? Someone gives you somethin', it's yours. Unless they say, 'hey. Give this back to me,' then you... it's yours." Another gentle squeeze to his hand, and Noctis nudged Prompto lightly with his shoulder.

With a shrug, Prompto said, "not according to my dad. He... it wasn't just me, either. It was Loqi, too." Prompto couldn't help but notice the slight change in Noctis' demeanor when he mentioned his brother. "He'd give us something, and remind us that he reserved the right to take it away whenever he wanted to. He usually didn't. But whenever we got stuff like clothes, or whatever... he'd-"

"Then they weren't gifts," Noctis grumbled. "And your dad's an even bigger asshole than I thought."

Prompto couldn't stifle a soft laugh at that. It seemed like that was the point they kept cycling back to. "I guess," he muttered.

Nudging him with a shoulder and smiling a gentle, sort of lazy, drunken smile, Noctis said, "don't have to guess," with a wry grin—one that made Prompto's heart flutter a bit—on his face.

The smile on Prompto's face became even more genuine, then. "I guess not," he murmured, his slight smile lifting his tone just slightly.

"'M serious, though," Noctis pointed out. "When someone gives you a gift? Not sure about the actual definition of gift in the dictionary, but I've always assumed it meant, like… someone gives you something, without expecting anything in return. And that means it's yours, and they can't take it back unless you _give_ it back. Your stuff is your stuff, Prompto. I don't care how you got it. Long as it isn't borrowed or stolen or whatever, it's yours. Y'don't think Aranea or Cindy would make you give that camera back, right?"

Prompto shook his head no. "They wouldn't."

With a nod, Noctis continued. "'Xactly. Your dad… he was just sayin' what he said to make you feel like you owed him more. T'keep you miser'ble for some reason." The smile had faded from Noctis' face, replaced instead with a scowl. "How'd you even run into him, anyway? Wasn't Cid keepin' 'im busy?" he asked.

Humming an affirmative note, Prompto's eyes fell again. He told Noctis about how when he met up with Ignis again after checking his room, they'd gathered up all of the things that Ignis wanted to bring with them, back to the compound. Tension edged its way through Prompto's body as he glanced over toward Ignis and Gladio's cabin, remembering the way he'd felt when he'd had to run back for his bag. As he explained to Noctis that _that_ was how he'd run into his father, his face fell and he looked at the table. His nerves were still too shot. Everything was too fresh, and it was making him feel like it was happening all over again.

"S-so, I was... I was standing in the hallway, mid-run, with enough of my dad's papers in my bag to look like I was going to school, and… and there was my dad. A-and the whole time he was talking to me, I was terrified that he was g-going to look into my bag. Y'know? Especially after he mentioned it. I was scared. Almost to the point I couldn't move."

Noctis frowned. "I can't even... imagine. You must've been scared outta your mind. I'd've been scared, too," he admitted. Before Prompto could answer, Noctis continued. "But you did it, though. You moved, you got out, and you didn't... he didn't catch you." The smile came back to his face. "You're braver than you think you are." Another gentle nudge to his arm grabbed his attention, and Noctis' eyes were urging him to acknowledge his own bravery.

It wasn't that simple, though. Especially when he thought of what happened next. "I ran," he admitted, darting his eyes down to look at the table. "We all ran. Until we had to stop because Luna was tired. Ignis led us to this back alley so we could hide and catch our breath. Y'know. In case he was following us."

Nodding, Noctis said, "smart. Wouldn't expect much less from Specs, though," with a nod and a grin.

Prompto hummed a note of agreement, but then looked away from Noctis again. "I freaked out. I was tired and my stomach was flipping around. I..." he paused, trailing off. Did he want to confess to falling apart in a back alley and throwing up from anxiety? What would Noctis think? Prompto knew that he was a coward, but he really, really didn't want Noctis' opinion of him to change.

It seemed like Noctis sensed his apprehension. Of course he did. He wasn't stupid. Prompto was about to apologize, to wave off the conversation and tell Noctis that it was no big deal. Before he could, though, he felt the increasingly familiar sensation of arms wrapping around him. Warm arms. Gentle arms. _Noctis'_ arms. Prompto tensed for a second, but then relaxed into the embrace. A few seconds of silence passed, as Prompto enjoyed the feeling of Noctis' arms around him and tried to ignore that it was making his heart beat a little bit faster, and then Noctis spoke again.

His breath still smelled a bit like alcohol, but it was easy enough to ignore. "You can tell me anything, Prom. You never have to be ashamed or embarrassed with me. I promise. I'll lo-" He cut himself off, tensing in the embrace for a couple of seconds, before continuing. "I'll li... I... um! Y-you're my best friend!" For a second, his tone changed. He sounded frantic, panicked for some reason. Shortly after that, though, it leveled back down. From there, his words were soft. Gentle. Thick with a tone that Prompto had never heard from Noctis' voice before. "That pretty much means you can do no wrong."

And it was exactly what Prompto needed. Warm arms around him, gentle promises that he had nothing to be embarrassed about... he probably should have been ashamed at how much that meant to him. As he leaned his head down, resting it against Noctis' shoulder, he murmured against his shirt. "It's... it's no big deal, really," he started. "I just... I was nervous and I'd just run for like, five hundred feet. I threw up. Th-that's all." He tried to play it off like it was nothing, like he hadn't been panicking and terrified that his dad was going to chase them through the Hammerhead streets.

Noctis, it seemed, saw through the act, though. One of his hands glided slowly up and down Prompto's back. "I'm sorry," he muttered. His breath was warm against Prompto's shoulder, the feel of it tickling his neck making Prompto shiver, even though he wasn't cold. 

It took considerable effort to ignore it. Even as he spoke, he wasn't ignoring it. "Don't be. I'm okay," Prompto replied. Now, at least.

"Yeah, but that doesn't make me wish I was there any less. I could've, y'know, done something. And I wouldn't've cared if you—wait, no, that sounds wrong. I would've cared. I _do_ care. A... a lot." There was a candidness to Noctis' tone that made Prompto subconsciously lean into his embrace a little bit more. "But it wouldn't've mattered. Wait, no. _That's_ not right either. I wanted to be there, because I-"

Okay, so Noctis was adorable when he fumbled. Prompto found himself smiling just slightly against Noctis' t-shirt. It smelled like a bar, but Prompto didn't care. "I think I know what you're saying..." he offered, trying to ease Noctis' struggle a little bit. "You wanted to help. You wouldn't have minded being there for me, even if I was a mess. Right?" He nuzzled his head just slightly against Noctis' shoulder, probably looking very much the part of a cat wanting attention.

There was a long hesitation, during which Noctis didn't move at all. The only movement Prompto felt was his friend's breath against his shoulder. When he finally spoke up, his tone was quiet. "R-right," he whispered.

Something told Prompto that there was _something_ else to what Noctis was saying, but what could it possibly be? Prompto supposed it didn't really matter. He hadn't said it, and Prompto figured that it probably meant that he didn't want Prompto knowing after all. And that was okay. He was allowed his secrets. After a needy nuzzle against Noctis' shoulder, which brought a heavier dusting of heat to Prompto's cheeks, he relaxed a bit more. Breathing a soft sigh, he felt slight movement in Noctis' shoulders, and figured that his friend was getting uncomfortable. With a bashful chuckle, he moved to lift his head and sit up straight...

… only to have Noctis' lips come into contact with the tip of his nose.

Prompto was pretty sure that he went cross-eyed, trying to get a look at the spot where Noctis' lips were touching his nose, but when he looked back up and caught Noctis' eye, realization seeped in as to how close Noctis' face was to his. Really close. Like, really, really close. Their eyes locked, and Noctis blinked a couple of times, before jumping back away from Prompto like he was on fire.

"Uh... boop?" Noctis' voice was uncertain.

Blinking twice, Prompto pushed his glasses up his nose, brushing his fingers against where Noctis' lips had just left. "W-what?"

Even in the darkness, Prompto could see red on Noctis' cheeks. "I... that was meant for the top of your head," he admitted. "But... but I got your nose, so it's a rule, right? Whenever you touch someone's nose or something, you have to boop?" He glanced at the table, at the ground, at the darkening sky... anywhere but at Prompto.

Somehow, despite everything, Prompto managed to laugh at that. He ran his fingers along the tip of his nose again, in an embarrassing attempt to preserve the feeling of Noctis' lips touching them. It had happened almost half a minute ago, but Prompto could still feel it like it was happening right then. His nose was right next to his lips. Even if it wasn't what Noctis had meant to do—even if it was meant for the top of Prompto's head—the nose was _right_ next to the lips. It wasn't _exactly_ as close as they'd been back in Hammerhead, but it was still close. And Prompto would take it. It would definitely be sufficient distraction for a good long time, when his mind decided to wander. Noctis was drunk, so it probably didn't mean anything... but it was enough to lift Prompto's spirits just a little bit.

When he dared himself to look back up at Noctis, Noctis was staring down at the table, a lopsided smirk on his face and a _perfect_ dusting of red coloring his cheeks. Just above the red, though, Prompto caught sight of the cut on his cheek and the dark purple under his eye. He'd heard something about a fight in a bar, and he found himself wondering exactly what had happened. It was definitely a good enough distraction from thinking about how close they'd come to kissing _again_.

 _So close, but so far,_ his brain taunted.

He shook it away, though, tilting his head to catch Noctis' eyes. Noctis turned to look at him, the red still decorating his face and making him look all the more gorgeous. "S-so... a bar fight, huh?" he asked.

Noctis' eyes darted away just as quickly as Prompto had managed to catch them. "I... uh... 's not important," he shook his head vehemently, then tilted it to the side in a shrug. "You're the one who had a bad day. I just... got drunk and-"

"I don't wanna think about my day anymore," Prompto admitted, shaking his head and glancing over at the table. "I spent the whole ride home from Hammerhead thinking about it, and I just... I want it to be over. So we can move on to the next day, and then maybe when my dad's gone to Niflheim, I won't ever have to see him again."

The frown on Noctis' face deepened, as he turned to look from the table, to Prompto, and then back at the table. As he glanced at Prompto's plate, still half-full of food, he glanced back at Prompto. "I'll... I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you. But you have to eat the rest of that, okay? 'Cause you said you thr-" he cut himself off- "you, uh... lost the only other thing you ate all day. So, you need to eat. Right?" He pushed Prompto's plate a little bit closer.

Prompto nodded, but before he picked his fork up, he reached over and grabbed Noctis' plate, pulling it across the table and letting it rest in front of Noctis. "You, too. You need something in your stomach too, to y'know, sop up all that booze in there." Even though he was teasing Noctis, there was the slightest, tiny smile on his face.

When Noctis reciprocated the smile and reached for his fork, Prompto's mood had lifted quite a bit. That didn't last, though. Noctis told the story of the bar, of how he'd ordered shots and done them to distract himself from worrying. Selfishly, Prompto thought that it was maybe a little bit nice to have someone worrying about him like that. Someone other than Aranea and Cindy, anyway. The mention of a particular name dragged his attention right back to the unpleasantness of the situation, though. Ravus. Ravus explaining that Prompto's dad was up to something really bad. Ravus provoking Nyx. Ravus warning Gladio about how drunk Noctis was.

"A-and that's when Loqi showed up."

If Prompto hadn't been paying attention when Ravus' name was mentioned, mention of Loqi's name would have done it. Loqi showed up. When Noctis mentioned Ravus, Prompto had allowed himself to think that maybe Noctis got into a fight with _Ravus_ , and that was where the injuries came from. As Noctis went on, though, Prompto's frown deepened.

"He was taunting us. A-and..." Noctis paused, a long pause where he glanced at his hands like he was mulling something over, decided on something, and then turned to look at Prompto. "I... told him his sweater looked dumb, and that his hair was oily. A-and that..." He trailed off again. "That was when we just... started fighting. M'not sure exactly how. Don't really remember."

There was something in Noctis' tone that Prompto didn't quite understand. It wasn't either a lack of honesty, or worry that Prompto would be mad at him. Since he could never really see Noctis lying to him about something so stupid as getting into a fight with Loqi, it had to be the latter. But it was a non-issue. Yeah, Prompto missed Loqi and missed being friends with him, but... that was ages ago. He'd long since given up on that possibility. While a tiny piece of him was worried about Noctis being so concerned that he would drink himself stupid, the rest of him felt the smallest bit of triumph. The sadness was still there, but it was easy to ignore.

With a smile still on his face, he said, "wish I'd been there," before filling his mouth with another forkful of rice.

"We should go together sometime. Maybe not to that bar, 'cause I don't wanna risk runnin' into Loqi again, but there's a couple pretty cool bars in Altissia that we can hit when we go there. F'you wanna." Noctis ticked his shoulder up in a shrug. "Tomorrow, I can ask Wesk and Cor about setting aside some days for us to go as soon as you can get an eye appointment."

Prompto laughed a little bit. "I mean, I don't know about going to Altissia just to get into a bar fight-"

"No," Noctis laughed, too, around a mouthful of rice. "I promise. No bar fights. Just... fun. And getting your glasses fixed, but mostly fun."

Just fun. In Altissia. With the person he was head over heels in love with. The person that he'd almost kissed—twice now. Just fun. Yeah, Prompto would be lying if he said that he wasn't down for some fun in Altissia. They'd hyped this trip for over a month now. Prompto was ready to finally take it.

"Yeah. That sounds good." Really good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Ravus/Loqi chapter alert! Check out the link to 'Different Side' down below!


	33. Comprehend

As it turned out, Prompto couldn't get an eye doctor appointment for another month, which was fine. That gave Noctis a month to research. A month to plan. A month to ensure that their trip to Altissia was the perfect chance for them to take it easy after everything they'd been through recently. Noctis didn't really know _all_ of the sights in Altissia, but he knew that some of their friends did. Ignis and Gladio, Iris and Weskham had all lived there for around a year, so they had to have some idea of where to go. While Prompto was in Lestallum with several of their friends for a shopping trip, Noctis decided to take the chance to ask Ignis and Iris, who stayed behind to cook dinner, what they thought.

Admittedly, Noctis was a little bit anxious to send Prompto to Lestallum, where he knew that Loqi was living. He felt a little bit better, though, knowing that so many of their friends were with him. Really, the only ones left on the compound were Noctis, Ignis, and Iris. Noctis had been... strongly encouraged to stay behind; Weskham didn't really call it a punishment in so many words, but that was the impression that Noctis was getting from it.

It was fine. He was only sort of worried. As he tucked his sketchbook—as well as a second, small notebook with jotted down vague ideas of what to do when he and Prompto went to Altissia—under his arm, and walked into the lounge, he pondered what he remembered about Altissia himself. Honestly, most things about the place were pleasant memories. Most. The thought of the carnival and Pietas were significantly less pleasant, but in a city as big as Altissia, the chances of running into him there were slim. He'd been older than Noctis, at least that's what Noctis thought. Maybe he'd moved on. Moved away.

Noctis had, so in the end, it didn't matter much.

Opening the door to the lounge, Noctis smiled a little bit when the smell of Ignis' famous smoked behemoth roast hit his nostrils. The aroma danced around the dining hall, and Noctis basically went from zero to a thousand on a hunger scale as soon as he smelled it. He heard pots clanging from the kitchen, and when he rounded the corner, he half expected to see Ignis standing over the stove, working hard on chopping vegetables or getting some sort of side dish started. That wasn't what he saw at all, though. Iris was hard at work, chopping potatoes and dropping them into a pot. A few feet to her left stood Ignis, with a cutting board filled with half-chopped peppers and parsnips. He wasn't chopping, though. Instead, he was poring over a notebook with his knife hanging loosely in the opposite hand.

Iris noticed Noctis before Ignis did. That was worthy of concern, too. Normally, Ignis was acutely aware of every single sound, every single change in atmosphere that happened around him. The way he stared at that notebook, though... it was like he was singularly focused. Of course, Noctis knew that Ignis could get like that sometimes. When he took on a project, he was pretty focused on it. Like this, though? No. This was new.

"Noct!" Iris called, her voice echoing throughout the kitchen. "We were just wondering where you were, weren't we, Iggy?"

When Ignis' only response was a hum—when he didn't even look up from the notebook he was holding—that was when worry really started to set in. Noctis watched him as he abandoned his knife and leaned forward a little bit more, looking closer to the notebook, and then let out a frustrated grunt. "No, that's not-" He turned around, then blinked when he saw Noctis talking to Iris. "Ah. Noct. When did you get here? You arrived so quietly that I barely heard you."

Iris and Noctis exchanged incredulous looks, before looking at Ignis with arched eyebrows. It was beyond weird to be looking at Ignis like that, and even weirder to think that he was so out of sorts that he hadn't even heard Iris' _very audible_ reaction to Noctis coming into the room. Noctis bit his lip. He'd heard Gladio and Iris mention that sometimes, Ignis would get so into what he was doing that he would lose track of everything around him. In all the time Noctis had known him, though—since they were both kids—Noctis had never really seen it with his own eyes.

With a shake of her head, Iris put the last of the potatoes into the pot and then turned to Ignis. "Actually, no. He wasn't. Or, at least I wasn't. I pointed out that we were just talking about him a little while ago, wondering where he was."

"She wasn't really quiet, either," Noctis pointed out, glancing at the composition notebook that Ignis was looking at. "You've been carrying that around everywhere for the past couple days..."

Ignis glanced at the notebook, stared at it for a couple of seconds too long, and then turned to look back at Noctis. "Ah. Indeed. It's very well encrypted. It and everything else that I got from Dr. Besithia's laboratory. I've cross checked what's there against many different languages, and I can't seem to find anything to compare it to. It's... almost as though he's writing in an entirely different language. His own, but with roots in Lucian. It's so close to being readable, but falls short and it's... undeniably frustrating." He glanced at the notebook again.

After a couple of seconds, Ignis continued. "There are bits and pieces of regular Lucian in here. There are several mentions of Niflheim, many mentions of Keycatrich Trench, crystals, but on nearly every page, there is one commonality." He pointed at the page the notebook was open to, and pointed at three words, written in red ink and underlined twice as though they were supposed to draw attention.

"Disc of Cauthess," Iris read, as she glanced over Ignis' shoulder. "Weird. Everything else here is like... numbers and weird codes and dates and whatever that math thing with the colon in the middle of it is."

Ignis nodded. "A ratio."

Iris nodded. "Right! That! So, why is Disc of Cauthess written in big and fancy letters when everything else looks super confusing and makes literally no sense?" she asked, placing her hands on the counter and jumping up so that she was sitting on it. As she sat there, she eyed Ignis, who had turned his attention back to the notebook. She reached over, snatching it up from in front of Ignis and opening it.

With a blink, Ignis looked at Iris. "Iris, please-"

She shrugged. "I just wanna look. You still have to chop those veggies, anyway! The roast is almost done and they're gonna be hard unless you par-boil them!" Shooing him to work with her hand, she gave Noctis a pointed look, like this was what she'd intended all along. Noctis didn't comment, just fought back a smile.

Sighing a resigned note, Ignis turned around and went back to chopping the vegetables that were stacked up on his cutting board. "I apologize," he offered. "I realize that I've been mildly distracted by this research lately, but I merely wish to get to the bottom of why Dr. Besithia saw fit to take blood from Prompto for twenty years, and why he's suddenly interested in your blood, Noct." Another sigh, equally dramatic, and he gathered another pot from the cupboard. The chopped vegetables went into the pot and on the stove, and then he smiled weakly at Noctis.

Noctis nodded. "I mean. I'm curious, too. Obviously." He looked down at the mostly-faded bruising on his arm. "But I'd rather not have you work yourself to death to find the answer. Kinda like having you alive, man." Clasping Ignis' shoulder as he turned the stove on, Noctis shrugged. "You'll figure it out, Specs. You always do."

Humming a note—Noctis wasn't sure it was agreement or just question—Ignis wiped his hands on the cloth that hung from the over and turned to look at Iris. "Tell me truly. How long was I focused on that notebook?" he asked her.

A smirk crossed Iris' face. "Long enough for me to change the station to Hot 100 without you noticing," she pointed out, pointing at the stereo on the kitchen counter with her thumb. "I should've known that something was off when that Miley Cyrus song came on and you didn't even make one disgusted noise." She shrugged and glanced back down at the notebook in her hands.

Ignis laughed. "Well, I'll be sure to complain twice as much next time she comes on, just to appease you," he murmured, mixing the vegetables in the pot. "I suppose I did lose it for a bit. I can't remember the last time I had to par-boil vegetables to put into a roast. It had to be back when I was learning to cook." He chuckled, thinking back fondly. "I seem to recall Noctis and Gladio eating every bite of it regardless, though."

"Your version of a screw up on a meal is still ten times better than anyone else's actual best, though," Noctis countered. "Well, Iris and Wesk being the exceptions."

Smirking and flicking her eyes up from the notebook, Iris nodded. "I was gonna say. Be careful who you call a bad cook. Someone's gotta cook your potatoes, there," she mused, glancing back down at the page.

Noctis huffed a laugh as he glanced at Iris. What was with that notebook and taking over half of the attention of whoever was reading it? Shaking the question off, he turned to look back at Ignis. "So, I was hoping you two could help me with something," he murmured, taking the small notebook from his hand and flipping through the pages for a blank one. "You guys know that Prom and me are going to Altissia next month. I was wondering if you two could help me figure out where to take him. I wanna take him to the photography museum next to the arena, so he can see that his pictures are just as good—maybe better—than theirs, but between that and the bistro next to the apartment, I'm... not sure, really."

Looking up from the notebook, Iris perked. "Shopping! Delisle Street has those little boutiques! You could take him to get some clothes to replace the ones his jerk dad got rid of. And pay for 'em. Because you're in _loooove_ with him." She smirked.

Ignis was smiling fondly at Iris, and then the fond smile turned to Noctis, and he nodded. "I was also going to recommend Delisle Street. And then there's the monster arena. Provided you don't gamble away all of your money like you did last time." He quirked a teasing smirk and took the roast from the oven to spread the vegetables around.

"Hey! It's not my fault the grand prize was the fishing rod of my dreams! I'm still mad that gaudy rich girl with the chihuahua and the arm candy boyfriend won it. They probably never even used it." Noctis made a face as he leaned his hip against the counter, scribbling 'Delisle Street' and 'monster arena' onto the page.

After a fond chuckle, Ignis continued. "You could also take him on a gondola ride. The private fishing pier that you and your father liked to visit is a good place for some alone time." The smile on his face was loaded. Like he knew about what Noctis had talked about with Iris and Crowe.

Of course, he did, honestly. Iris told Ignis and Gladio everything, and it wasn't like Gladio hadn't already figured it out anyway. Everyone on the compound knew. What if someone told Prompto? Admittedly, Noctis almost wished it would happen. At least, a tiny part of him did. Having Prompto know and not having to tell him would be just as much of a relief as it would be terrifying. As Noctis thought back to the other night, how he'd almost kissed Prompto _again_ , and how he'd almost exploded with feelings all over the balcony at their cabin, a bit of heat crept up to his cheeks. Riding in a gondola with him through Altissia? Noctis nodded and added 'gondola ride' and 'fishing' to the list.

"You seem to be looking forward to this trip," Ignis pointed out as he slid the roast back into the oven. "I don't often see you plan so far ahead."

Noctis bit his lip and nodded. "I kinda... want it to be right. For him, y'know?" Rather than looking at Ignis, he focused on drawing idle patterns at the bottom of the page, below his list. "Cid and Cindy and Aranea do stuff for him, sure, and now so do we. But, I want something that's just for him. Something to try and make up for everything that his dad and his brother did to make him miserable." Something all about him. To make him happy.

Normally, this was the moment that Iris would chime in with some sort of teasing comment, but she was suspiciously silent. Her eyes were still trained on the notebook, and she was chewing on her lower lip. Noctis didn't want to draw Ignis' attention to it, since they'd just barely managed to get his attention _away_ from the notebook, but it was hard when Iris' silence was definitely holding _Noctis'_ attention. Still, he managed to look away before Ignis noticed. He found himself wondering, morbidly, if that notebook had some sort of hypnotic power. Whenever someone looked at it, they seemed to focus to the point that they blocked the rest of the world out.

Iris, though, spoke up. "Um, Iggy?" she called out, beckoning Ignis toward her. "I gotta admit, I'm hesitant to even bring this up, 'cause it feels like we just got your focus off the thing, but… I, um... I might've found something that you missed."

Ignis blinked, turning his attention to Iris. His eyebrows were practically up at his hairline as he crossed the short distance between them and stepped up beside Iris as she hopped down from the counter. "What did you find?" he asked her, looking over her shoulder at the notebook.

As Ignis arrived at her side, Iris turned around and placed the notebook on the counter. "I kind of... I was doing one of those cryptogram things in the newspaper this morning. Remember, you taught me how to do them?" she asked.

Ignis nodded. "You picked up on them quickly, if recollection serves."

With a nod, Iris pointed at the page. "It's just a couple words. Most of it is like... not even on the same level as cryptograms. Random code that I can't even begin to understand. Some of it, though? Some words can totally be translated with cryptograms, if you look at 'em," she explained. "Like this one. It looks like it's in another language. WDNJCWED. Like, what the heck, right? Dunno what language _that's_ supposed to be. But... then? I started using cryptogram rules on it on a whim, and... and it's something. There's a bunch of words that fit. Like, five that I can think of. Like... there's two W's in there," she murmured.

"I see! Yes! Their position in the word narrows it down significantly, too. W, blank, blank, blank, blank, blank, W, blank, blank" Ignis continued. "There are very few words that fit that category. Resource."

Iris nodded. "Recharge. Inaction," she continued. "Invasion. Infusion."

At the sound of the word infusion, Ignis' eyes popped open. "Do any of the other words jump out at you?" he asked her, as he glanced back down at the page.

Glancing back up at Ignis, Iris pointed at the oven. "If you keep an eye on dinner and stuff, and stay the heck away from the notebook and let me do my thing? I'll look." She closed the notebook around one finger, holding the page but getting it out of Ignis' view.

The flash of annoyance on Ignis' face was momentary as he met Iris' eye, but just as quickly, guilt took its place and he glanced over at the oven. "Very well," he agreed. "But keep me in the loop."

Admittedly, Noctis was just barely on the fringes of the conversation. He understood that Iris seemed to have found something important. Everything that they were saying after that, though, was like a typhoon of question marks in his mind. He knew that Iris and Ignis had a hobby of doing those newspaper cryptograms, and that sometimes Weskham would join them, but all of that flew way over Noctis' head. He just watched them, listened closely, and scribbled idle patterns into his notebook. His eyes went from the counter, where Iris stood, tapping her finger against the page and shaking her head no. Ignis stood over by the stove, tending to the roast, but glancing at Iris every so often.

"Daemons," Iris' voice broke the silence. "This word is daemons. Which means that the other one is probably 'infusion' or 'invasion.' Either one sounds really bad..."

Noctis turned to a new page in his notebook, and wrote down what Ignis and Iris had said. 'Invasion' and 'infusion,' one beneath the other. "So, they're trying to infuse daemons into something? Like what...?" he asked, turning his attention to Iris, who was staring at the notebook in her hand just as intently as Ignis had been.

In his periphery, though, he saw Ignis tilting his head to the side in a shrug. "We don't know for sure," he confessed, "but this is the strongest lead we've had yet, to finding out exactly what the man is planning..."

She looked up from the notebook, and from Ignis to Noctis with concern in her eye. "Infuse something... with daemons? I think that's with..." Her tone was thick with worry. Whatever the last word was, didn't matter. Well, it did, but at the same time, it didn't. Anything involving daemons and infusions did not sound like a good thing. And it _really_ didn't sound like something Noctis—or anyone, probably—wanted to be involved with.

This was sounding worse and worse. Ignis stopped completely, mid-task, left the oven door open and hurried back over to Iris. Noctis honestly didn't even blame him this time. Standing up, he closed the oven and then joined the others. Over Iris' shoulder, it all still looked like a mess of letters and numbers. Noctis genuinely didn't understand any of it, but Iris and Ignis seemed to be making sense of bits and pieces, and that was more than Noctis could've expected, so soon. It wasn't huge progress. It was just a couple of words, a couple of things that really didn't blend together well. The last word in the small group was eight letters long, and he could sense the intimidation that the others felt when they looked at it.

Iris hummed. "That just leaves this one." She bit her lip. "Well, the second and fourth letter are the same, and so are the third and last one. I think this is a B. Or a V. Visitors? Infuse visitors with daemons? Astrals, I hope not..." she murmured.

The pair of them went quiet as they considered what the word could mean, and Noctis turned and glanced toward the oven. The behemoth smelled really, really good. The behemoth—the _behemoth_! His eyes went wide and he glanced down at the paper. "Behemoth," he spoke calmly.

"Huh?" Iris asked.

Noctis pointed at the word. "You said it started with B. And that the second and fourth letters were the same, and the third and last. Could it be behemoth?" he asked, glancing at Iris, and then at Ignis.

A flash of 'eureka' crossed Ignis' face, but just as quickly as it appeared, it went away. Turned, instead, to shock and horror. "Infuse a behemoth with daemons..." he whispered.

Iris blinked. "Would he actually..."

It was a terrifying thought. A daemon infused behemoth would be really, really dangerous, and difficult for even Prompto and Noctis, with their aeons, to beat. That wasn't the question, though. The question was whether or not Verstael would infuse a behemoth with daemons. And the answer was, unfortunately, pretty obvious.

"He would," Noctis answered, his eyes on the floor.

Ignis frowned. "Unfortunately, Noct is correct. The man is capable of anything. He tormented his son—his _sons_ , probably—for years. It's highly possible that he took blood from both of them for his research. So, is it out of the realm of possibility that he would be insane enough to infuse a behemoth with daemons? I don't believe so." He glanced at the notebook. "I have a sneaking suspicion that I know where this daemon-infused behemoth is. If I'm correct, I suspect that if we don't attend to it soon, it could become a very serious issue for the people surrounding that area. Especially if it managed to escape its confines."

Scratching a hand through his hair, Noctis glanced down at the notebook again. Ignis had an idea of where the daemon behemoth was—if they were actually right about this whole thing—and by a passing glance at where Ignis looked, so did Noctis.

"The Disc of Cauthess?" Noctis asked.

Ignis nodded once. "We could be off base," he started, "but presently, all signs are pointing that way."

A frown etched down her features. "I mean, we're the only group with clearance to go there, right? So, I guess that means-"

"That we've no time to waste," Ignis spoke up, his slightly frantic tone surprising both Iris _and_ Noctis. "If we hurry, we can get there before it escapes and-"

Iris shook her head and stepped right into Ignis' field of vision. "Um... now's probably a bad idea..." she pointed out, trying to sound calm but falling short. "We have food in the oven, and if we're going to take on a behemoth, we're gonna want our complete energy, right? R-right Noct?" It seemed like Iris was concerned about Ignis, for more than just this behemoth incident.

And Noctis honestly saw why. Lately, the composed and together Ignis was seeming less and less so. Lately, the only time that Noctis even _saw_ him was for meals. He spent the rest of his time, locked away in his cabin, looking over all of the journals and paperwork that he'd taken from Verstael's office. No one was really saying anything—except for probably Gladio—but Noctis could tell that everyone on the compound was becoming increasingly concerned about how dedicated he was to this. It was, of course, his specialty. Research and finding answers and strategy and the like was the thing that Ignis was better at than anyone else on the compound. Anyone else Noctis knew at _all_. That didn't mean that it had to consume him, though.

With that in mind, Noctis nodded. "Um, besides that? There's only three of us, Specs. We go in there and try to take on a behemoth with just the three of us? We're dead before we can even get a hit in." It wasn't the most pleasant thought, but it was true.

"I'm not implying that we do a foolhardy rush in to slay the beast, Noctis." Ignis shook his head no, seemingly affronted by the implication. "I'm merely implying that we do reconnaissance. There are plenty of vantage points at the Disc. If we climb to one, we can get a look at the place. No one has been in there for generations. At least..." He glanced at the notebook, "no trustworthy source to document what they saw therein."

Noctis half expected Iris to step in, but behind Ignis, he could see her on her phone, sending a text. It didn't take a genius to know that she was probably texting Gladio to get him to step in and convince Ignis to think his crazy plan through. "Specs, I get that you want answers. But even recon in a place like that is dangerous with three people. It's the Disc. Literally, no one with any sense goes in there. I think, even to get recon, we're better off waiting until we're all together. Right? Strength in numbers?" he asked.

The annoyance was as plain as the glasses on Ignis' face. He picked up the notebook from where Iris had abandoned it on the counter.

"And we don't even know if we're right. It could literally just be something Verstael put there to screw with us. Don't you think we should wait to hear what Cor and Wesk say?" Noctis' tone was gentle. He wasn't _trying_ to sound patronizing, but it probably did. A little.

Ignis was about to say something, likely just what Noctis had been thinking, when his phone went off in his pocket—a familiar ringtone that Noctis knew that Ignis had assigned to Gladio—and protests died on his lips. "Excuse me," he told Noctis and Iris instead. "I need to take this." He stepped over to the other side of the room, leaning against the wall and answering his phone.

Noctis turned to look at Iris, and the two of them exchanged a concerned frown. "You texted Gladio?" he asked her.

She nodded. "He's the only one who can get through to Iggy when he gets like this," she answered, turning worried eyes to where Ignis leaned back against the wall, with his head leaned back and his eyes on the ceiling. "I'm kinda worried that he's gonna become reclusive until he figures out everything in this research."

So was Noctis, honestly, but he had to have a little bit of faith in the fact that Ignis would know when to reign it in. "We'll figure it out. Gladio will be able to keep him in check. And maybe once we check out the Disc... he won't be as bad..." he offered, his tone tentative.

Only because he wasn't sure if he fully believed it himself. If circumstance was leading them to the Disc, though, Noctis swore that every single last one of them was going to come out of it in one piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this isn't too complicated, but you, my lovely friends, are intelligent folks and I imagine you're picking up what I'm throwing down!


	34. Disc (I)

Whatever Noctis had been expecting when the others got back, this wasn't it. Despite the fact that they (they being Gladio, with a little bit of help from Weskham) managed to convince Ignis to wait until the rest of the team got back and ate their dinner to leave, it still didn't feel like he wanted to. It was honestly the most silent, most awkward dinner they'd ever eaten. Ignis and Gladio barely spoke to each other—Noctis recalled seeing them argue for a few minutes when the group got back from Lestallum, an argument that ended with a very terse hug and an equally tentative apology from each of them—and Ignis barely ate. It felt like everyone else was feeding off of that energy.

Or maybe it was that the only lead that they had led them straight into the Disc of Cauthess. Either way, dinner was quiet, except for the occasional attempt from Weskham or Cor to engage them. Eventually, the two coordinators stopped trying.

Noctis was worried, honestly. It was painfully reminiscent of what happened the last time there was a massive fight like this, and that ended with the group splitting into two groups. It was hard to keep the worry from his expression as the group of them did a last minute stock of potions and weaponry. When it was determined that everything was in order, they departed. Weskham's orders were that Prompto and Noctis were to lead the way and take Ignis, Gladio, and Nyx into the Disc first, as one team. Iris, Crowe, Aranea, and Cindy were to stay behind and only go in if things went poorly. Something of a rescue team, and it made perfect sense. Like his dad always said, in a place like this, having a contingency plan was always important.

Weskham and Cor, surprisingly, were joining them. Though, they weren't going into the Disc. Their purpose was to stay at the car and watch out for Luna. It made perfect sense, especially since they didn't really want Luna in there if she didn't have to be. With her hypersensitivity to daemons, she would have had a miserable time in there, and someone would have to be at her side at all times. It was a little nerve wracking, to have Cor and Weskham out and potentially fighting daemons for the first time in over a year, but they made the rules. They were the coordinators.

With orders in place, they piled into their vehicles. Luna and Nyx rode with Cor and Weskham in Nyx's car, Ignis offered his keys to Iris, so that she could drive their group, and then he and Gladio piled into the back seat of Noctis' car. Admittedly, it was weird to be driving with Ignis in the backseat, but as soon as they sat down, Ignis' motives became all the clearer. The second he relaxed into the seat, he pulled one of Verstael's notebooks from his coat pocket and started rifling through it.

"Igs," Gladio's voice, a little gruff in its annoyance, carried through the car. "Really? Now?"

Ignis hummed an affirmative answer. "We'll be on the road for at least an hour," he answered, not even turning his head to glance at Gladio. "That gives me plenty of time to take another look through this first notebook with Iris' theory in my mind." He adjusted his glasses, and the last thing Noctis saw before he glanced back toward the road was Ignis' hand coming to adjust his glasses.

A couple of seconds of annoyed grumbling to himself, and then Gladio spoke up again. "Not what I meant. I meant, shouldn't we be spendin' this ride talking about tactics? We've basically been named Alpha Team here. Can't rely on Noct and Prom's aeons the whole time," he pointed out, pointing into the front seat with his thumb.

The tone that Ignis fired back with is almost affronted. "I wasn't implying that we do anything of the sort," he insisted, raising his eyes to cast Gladio an annoyed look. "But if there is any clue as to what else is in the Disc, other than what may or may not be a daemon infused behemoth, in this notebook, do you not think my time is better served looking for it?"

Deep down, in his heart of hearts, Noctis knew that each of them had a reason to argue. Gladio was worried about Ignis. Ignis was worried about everyone. He _knew_ that the pair of them still loved each other, that they would _always_ love each other. He knew that couples fought sometimes. Noctis, though, had never actually _seen_ them fight before. In all the time he'd known them, even before they'd gotten together and Gladio was still with Ravus, he'd never seen them on different pages like this. It was worrisome. As he drove, he bit his lip and flicked his eyes to his right to glance at Prompto.

Prompto looked over his shoulder. "H-hey," he called out to them. "Are-"

Huffing, Gladio nodded. "It's fine. It's alright. I just..." He paused and trailed off, and in the rear view mirror, Noctis saw the worried look that he cast Ignis' way. Ignis didn't even notice. He just went right back to looking through the notebook.

"Yes, there's nothing to worry about, Prompto. We'll be alright. Just a minor disagreement as to my research habits." Ignis still didn't look up, and Noctis frowned, flicking his eyes back down to the road and then back up to the rear view. "You just rest. Save your energy for calling your aeon, since we will likely need it tonight."

Gladio looked sad. Concerned. But Noctis took small solace in the fact that, during another glance back to his friends, he saw Ignis turn a gloved hand over to weave his fingers in between Gladio's. It was a small show of intimacy, but to Noctis, at least, it showed that despite their disagreement here, they still loved each other. It was a damn good thing, too, because this was just about the only thing he'd ever really seen them argue over at any sort of length. The last thing Noctis saw, before he turned his attention to the road completely, was Gladio brushing his lips along Ignis' knuckles. That managed to pull Ignis' attention away from the notebook for a minute, and bring the tiniest of smiles to his face.

Okay. That was good.

Worry still etched it's way around Gladio's features, but at least, for now, it was covered up with a ghost of a smile. The rest of the ride was silent, too. Once in awhile, Ignis would make a noise, a hum or a grunt, and at around the time that they passed the Alstor Slough, Noctis put the radio on to drown out the heavy silence. His eyes caught Prompto's, which were filled with worry, and Noctis tried to assuage the worry with a gentle smile. It was telling, in a sort of sad way, that Noctis was a little bit more worried about Ignis and Gladio than he was about getting to the Disc of Cauthess. Daemons? Noctis could fight those until he collapsed without too much issue. When the couple that he based so much of his faith in love on was going through a rough patch, though... that was a whole different matter.

He sighed softly at the darkening sky—which was what finally made Ignis put the notebook away—and the appearance of daemons in the distance. Several minor daemons, hobgoblins and custards, a wraith and a reaper, caught his attention as they edged toward the Slough. It was weird, though. It seemed almost like there were more out tonight than Noctis remembered seeing recently. It was taking all of his willpower not to stop the car, not to get out and fight. Especially when it came to the ones that drew closer and closer to the town. Alstor was reasonably well-protected when it came to daemon lights, but those weren't always enough. And if it was this bad here, how bad was it in places like Hammerhead?

Internally, Noctis made a point to ask Prompto to call Cid tomorrow. If things got bad back there, maybe they could take a quick trip out to try and fix it.

By the time they got to the Disc, Noctis had noticed a really, really big difference in the amount of daemons. At first, he was willing to pass it off as just being close to a place that was known as a daemon breeding ground. When he thought back on it—and even more when he heard Cor and Weskham talking about it with Nyx—he realized that it wasn't that simple.

"Yeah. Even around the compound. I know that there's that really nasty pack of naga that live in the cave, but Noctis and Prompto took those out last week, and when we passed, I saw a couple of 'em go right back in like they'd never been cleared out. So, I'm not sure, but it almost looks like the population is increasing," Cor pointed out, likely replying to something that Nyx had said.

Nyx nodded. "Luna's been noticing it, too. Haven't you?" he asked her.

When she got out of the car, Noctis couldn't help but notice that Luna looked more tired than usual, but also more hyper-focused than usual. She nodded, all the same. "Spikes have been happening nearly every night," she pointed out. "It's not infrequent like it used to be. They're all minor, but I think that minor spikes everywhere are just as bad, if not worse, than centralized major spikes."

Weskham nodded. "I'm inclined to agree. This is something that we may need to have you all look at, in smaller groups. Luna, dear," he called her attention, "tomorrow, would you mind terribly if I asked you to inform me of where all of these spikes are? Or, at the very least, where the four strongest are? I will send us in groups."

"This is all if tonight's operation goes well, though," Cor countered, grabbing Weskham's attention.

With a nod, Weskham hummed his agreement. "Indeed. Provided things go well here, we will split up and look. Regardless, though, it would be good to know where the spikes are located so that we can mount operations if need be. Keeping track never hurt anyone," he answered.

Luna nodded. "I'll be certain to make note," she said as they arrived at Noctis' car. The final car, with Aranea, Cindy, Crowe, and Iris pulled in, and Noctis turned to look at Weskham and Cor.

Next came Ignis' voice. "Where are we infiltrating from?"

"Since it's an unknown," Gladio chimed in, showing that even though they weren't in _emotional_ sync, at least they were still in battle-sync, "we probably don't have a secure route. It'll be a fight all the way in." His eyes went to Noctis and Prompto. "Which means you two will probably have to lead the charge."

Prompto nodded eagerly, though there was still nervousness in his eyes. "Got it!" he replied.

Noctis had to smile a bittersweet smile. Eager to prove his father wrong, probably, despite the fact that he didn't need to prove anything to them. As long as he wasn't reckless—which was probably a little bit hypocritical, coming from Noctis—he would be great. He was stronger than he thought he was, and Noctis had seen firsthand what Carbuncle was capable of. Between Carbuncle and Bahamut, they'd be fine. They _had_ to be fine. He made a concentrated effort to ignore the chorus of daemon sounds that came from inside the walls, and turned to look at Weskham.

"Are we just going to storm the front gate?" Noctis asked, as the girls hurried to meet up with the group.

Ignis glanced over at the gate, humming thoughtfully. "The gate is quite high. I'm not sure exactly how we're expected to get over it, but-"

Noctis sucked in a sharp breath, realization dawning on him like a light bulb flicking on. "Bahamut can do it. Remember when we went to Keycatrich to get Prompto? How I rode on Bahamut's back to get to the mouth of the cave? He's probably strong enough to take two of us at once. I could send Prom with Nyx, then Specs and the Big Guy, and then he could come back for me. Not sure about the others, but we don't wanna... we don't wanna run on the assumption that we're gonna fail. Right?" he glanced from face to face, trying to hide how nervous he was.

"If the Squirt and me go first," Nyx started, grabbing Prompto in a gentle headlock, "he can call the little fox thing and we can take out whatever daemons are around us."

Because there were definitely daemons near the entrance. The shrieks swirled in an echoing cacophony that would almost definitely hurt Noctis' ears once they got to the other side. He kept his cool, though, and turned to look at the others for their approval of the plan. A loud-but-distant growl, one that sounded almost like it was coming from a dread behemoth, rather than a regular one, filled the space around them. It sounded like one of those horror behemoths that he'd only seen in movies or in nature documentaries when he was flipping channels. The growl shook Noctis to his bones, but he tried to ignore it.

Weskham nodded. "Very well. But use your radios to stay in contact, please. At the first sign of a behemoth, I expect you to hide and plan your moves accordingly."

Placing a hand on one of each of Gladio and Noctis' shoulders, Cor added, "and keep the heroics to a minimum. You both know full well that all five of you are capable of fighting. So, there's no need to be idiots." Though his words likely sounded teasing, there was a pointed tone to his voice.

"Right," Gladio agreed, and then flashed the tiniest smirk at Noctis.

When Cor stepped back, he looked at Noctis expectantly, and it was only then that Noctis realized that summoning his aeon in front of Cor and Weskham would probably be nostalgic of the days when Noctis' mom did the same, years ago. They'd seen it before in Keycatrich, but then, it had been different. Noctis had been running. Cor had been shouting. This was... well, _calmer_ wasn't really right. It was a little bit less urgent. They'd been around for the days when Noctis, Gladio, Iris, and Luna's moms had. They'd seen aeons before then, too, but probably not for a really long time. The last of the three women had died over ten years ago. Noctis _wanted_ to make a show of it for them, but at the same time, he was pretty sure that everyone would be pretty mad if he did.

So instead, turning his eyes to the sky, he simply called, "Bahamut! Come to me!" and calmed just slightly when the bright purple aura of the summoning appeared around him. Down from the sky came the dragon, and Noctis allowed himself the smallest smile as he looked up at it. It wasn't taxing like it had been. It was almost like a swell of power. One that didn't drain him anymore.

A flash of worry crept up, though, as he watched Prompto summon Carbuncle with a shout of, "please, Carbuncle! I need your help!" The tiny fox appeared at his side, dark eyes looking at him expectantly.

"Hey," Noctis called to Prompto, as Bahamut caught on to what he wanted and flew down to the ground, "looks like we'll be able to see Carbuncle on Bahamut's back soon!"

Prompto looked a bit distracted, but as soon as Noctis mentioned the silly joke they'd made weeks ago, a smile came back to his face. "Won't be as cute as seeing it from the ground, I guess, but yeah." He paused, glancing at the dragon and then over at Noctis. "H-he won't drop me, right? I mean... I'm not super into heights, but I'll do it if I've gotta." He raked his teeth over his lip as he watched Nyx climb up onto Bahamut's back.

Noctis shook his head no. "Trust him, okay? His wishes are my wishes, right? So, trusting him is basically trusting me. I'd never... I'd never let him hurt you. Promise." His tone was soft, quiet, but he was sure that Prompto could hear it. Whether that was reassuring or not was another whole matter entirely.

It seemed like it was, though, because Prompto smiled bashfully, then nodded his head as he walked over to the dragon. "Okay, Carby. Let's do this." He smiled as Carbuncle hopped up onto Bahamut's back, then crawled around Nyx to get to its head. The two aeons seemed to share a communication that Noctis couldn't understand. Some mysterious aeon language that Noctis wished that he could be privy to, but it didn't matter.

Once Prompto was situated, holding onto Nyx's shoulders while Nyx held onto Bahamut's neck, Noctis nodded at the dragon and watched it take to the air with a beating of wings that kicked up some grass from the ground. Up and over the top of the large gate he went. Noctis would never get over how awesome it was, having the dragon on his side. He wasn't smiling, not really, but there was a sort of easy look of calm on his face. Everything would be okay in there, because he had Bahamut and Prompto had Carbuncle. The feeling of serenity faded to one of concern when he turned around to see Weskham and Cor staring up at the dragon in wide-eyed awe.

"Are you guys-"

Weskham nodded. "Indeed, we're fine, lad. This is simply a far different scenario than the last time we saw it. He's quite impressive," he commented.

With a gentle chuckle and a nod, Cor added, "your mom's was a dragon, too. A massive white dragon, named Vidofnir. Yours is smaller, and dark, when hers was white, but it looks pretty similar." He clapped a hand on Noctis' shoulder. "Bet hers could've carried all five of you at once."

"Careful Cor," Gladio remarked, with a wry grin. "I don't think a kid's supposed to have dragon envy with his mom. Brings up a lot of complicated feelings."

Before Noctis could reply to that, he sensed Bahamut's takeoff from the other side of the gate. The dragon was calm as it fluttered back over, and then to the ground, waiting for Ignis and Gladio to climb onto its back. Gladio looked it over kind of curiously for a few seconds, and then placed a hand on its scales. He turned to look at Noctis, not saying as much, but silently looking for affirmation.

Noctis nodded. "He's alright. Promise. Just like I told Prom, his wishes are my wishes. So, he'll never hurt you." He flashed a reassuring smile.

And that was all it took. Gladio quickly climbed up onto the dragon's back, and held his hand down to bring Ignis up alongside him. Once Ignis was up and situated, with his hands on Gladio's hips, Noctis nodded once at Bahamut. The dragon tentatively took off from the ground, hovering for a couple of seconds to test the difference in weight. Then, it climbed higher, and continued over the gate. When it disappeared behind the large black hunk of metal, Noctis felt a hand clasp his shoulder. He jumped a little, but turned at the gentle touch, surprised to see Luna looking at him with worry in her eyes. Cor and Weskham were talking to Aranea and her team, and it felt almost as though she waited for the coordinators to have their attention elsewhere, to call Noctis' attention.

"Something isn't quite right with Gladio," she pointed out. "I'm not sure exactly what it is. He's composed, but at the same time, he seems a bit erratic. It may be because Ignis isn't quite himself, and hasn't been there to reign him in as usual, but you may need to keep a closer eye on him tonight. I feel as though he'll be slightly more reckless than usual."

Noctis blinked at her. It was new information, but it also wasn't. He'd noticed the argument between Ignis and Gladio, definitely. At the same time, though, he hadn't really considered the way it could affect their combat team. His eyes wandered over to the gate, and then back to Luna. They'd still seemed to be in combat sync a little while ago. Noctis supposed that it was probably different, though, talking about combat situations and actually _being_ in combat. Worry crept up, but he forced it back with an internal reassurance that everything would be fine.

Still, Luna seemed concerned, so he nodded his head. "Are you gonna tell Weskham and Cor?" he asked her.

She shook her head no. "I told them first. I just didn't wish to alarm Iris for something that may be nothing but a hunch," she pointed out.

Noctis nodded. She was right. If they pointed out that something _was_ off about Gladio, Iris would panic, and would probably find a way to climb the high gate herself to get in there. "I'll keep an eye on him," he agreed, making a conscious effort not to look at Iris and alert her of the conversation. "Thanks, Luna."

"You be careful, too. I should hate to think what Prompto would do if anything happened to you. Any of you, of course. But you, especially." She smirked a knowing smirk, exhausted eyes matching her smirk as she pointed toward Bahamut. "Now, I believe you have an aeon waiting for you," she told him gently.

If her plan was to take his mind away from the worry that went with going over the gate and into a literal daemon breeding ground, it worked for the amount of time that it took him to turn around and get onto Bahamut's back. As soon as the dragon took off, though, the worry was right back in the forefront of his mind. He pulled in a steadying breath as he looked down at their friends as they got slightly smaller, the higher he rose up. This was different from last time. Last time, he'd barely been off the ground. Fortunately, Noctis didn't have an aversion to heights, so he was completely fine.

That was, until he touched down on the other side of the gate. It looked like a daemon mosh pit in a ruin that was equal parts man-made and natural. The rock-lined corridor that they stood in _couldn't_ have been caused by erosion. It had to have been something that people had made. Or daemons, for that matter. Those people, if it was people, had to have been ancients. No human had been in here in ages. Eons. Centuries, maybe. There were remnants of old stone structures on the fringes of his vision, but his attention was dragged from admiring those for too long when he glanced at the rest of his team.

Rather, he _wanted_ to say that he was looking at the rest of his team. But he wasn't.

He touched down, expecting to see all four of the other members of his team fighting daemons, or something. Anything, really. That wasn't what he saw at _all_ , though. No, instead, he saw a very worried Prompto reaching after Nyx, who was weaving through a throng of daemons to get to a small crevice at the end of a long corridor made of towering rock. Noctis watched as Prompto took a running step forward to follow Nyx. He stopped, turning around and looking to the sky, visibly relaxing about a tenth of the way when he saw Noctis and Bahamut descending.

As Carbuncle blasted a daemon, and Bahamut surged forward to attack another as soon as Noctis climbed off his back, Prompto hurried up to him, panic in his eyes. "Noct! Noct, I'm so glad you-"

"Where's Ignis? And Gladio? And where's Nyx going?" Noctis asked, turning toward the path, that was filled with rapidly closing daemons. They'd barely been there for two minutes. What could have happened in that short of an amount of time?

With a shaky breath, Prompto pointed toward the small crevice. "As soon as Gladio and Ignis touched down, Gladio looked at the daemons, and then... and then he said he saw something. I didn't hear what he said he saw, but... something. He said it was something. And... and we tried to tell him to wait for you. But he said he had to hurry or whatever it was would get away," he explained, panic bubbling further and further up with every word. "Ignis tried to make him stop. He called out to him a dozen times and everything, and he _did_ listen a couple times. Every time he did, though, he said he saw it again. And he started running again. So, Ignis followed. And then Nyx followed. And I... and I was trying to decide if I should follow or wait for you like Nyx told me to, but I... but I-"

Well, if nothing else, this proved Luna absolutely right. And left them in a really, really lousy situation.

Noctis put a hand on Prompto's arm. "It's okay," he reassured his friend, the sight of Bahamut tearing a giant snake daemon in half catching his eye. "It's alright. You're okay. We'll be okay." And later, if—no, when—they all made it through this, Noctis would have to tell each and every one of the others how hypocritical they were, telling him not to run off alone and then doing it themselves.

"Okay. Well... wh-what should we do?" Prompto asked, his voice shaky.

 _What_ should _we do?_ Noctis asked himself. What was even worse was the fact that there was no immediate answer. This was bad. This... was really, really bad. "We should..." There were a lot of things they should have done, actually. They should have gone back out and get the others. They should have fought the daemons to make the path easier to return. They should never have come here to begin with. But, none of those options were _really_ options at the moment. Instead, Noctis decided, "we should follow them."

Prompto nodded. "R-right," he agreed. "The daemons, though..."

And Prompto was definitely right. The daemons were closing in, making it all the more impossible to find their way to the exit. He turned to glance back at Prompto. Their options were to fight through the daemons, or to get on Bahamut's back again, and make their way to wherever Gladio had gone. Wherever Nyx and Ignis were following to. Fighting through the daemons seemed stupid. Really, really stupid. Riding on Bahamut, though? It could get them an aerial view of the inside of the Disc, and get them there quickly.

"Bahamut!" Noctis called. In an instant, the dragon was at his side. "Prom, get Carbuncle to come back here. We're riding Bahamut further in here."

Bahamut and Carbuncle combined to push back the daemons that closed in, buying Prompto and Noctis time to climb up onto Bahamut's back. Once they were situated, Carbuncle hopped upward, landing on the dragon's neck and hopping up to its head. Prompto reached out, grabbing onto Noctis' waist and holding on. Then, with no further direction, Bahamut took off into the air. Low enough that no one on the other side of the gate would see them, but high enough to be just outside of the daemons' reach. Maybe Noctis should have told the others, but the amount of time it would have taken to get them all over the gate could very well have led to Ignis, Gladio, and Nyx's deaths. It was a judgment call, and one that he'd take the brunt for if it ended up being wrong.

For now, though, he had to hope beyond all reason that they could figure out where the others had gone, before they got themselves into even more trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I think I'll end part one of this with chapter 38 or so! I know what I plan to do with the rest of it, so I'm pretty sure part 2 should start up immediately afterward! ❤❤


	35. Disc (II)

However bad Prompto had thought the situation was? This was worse. Way, way worse. The area below them looked like a waterfall of daemons, cascading down into a pit full of even _more_ daemons at the bottom. The fault lines looked shaky, and every once in awhile, rocks of varying sizes would fall, usually hitting the ground, but occasionally striking a daemon and sending them into a frenzy. In all of that, Prompto barely made out three familiar figures as they shouldered their way through the throng. Gladio was in the very front, but Prompto only saw him for the briefest of seconds before he disappeared into a fissure. Ignis wasn't too far behind Gladio, but the daemons kept cutting off his pursuit, and he had to continuously jump back or to the sides to escape their grasp. A few steps behind both of them was Nyx.

Daemons had surrounded him, and he was doing his best to fight them off. The sheer number, though, plus the fact that Ignis and Gladio had disappeared and he was the focal point of everything that had been dogging Ignis and Gladio before, meant that he was in a world of trouble. Prompto squeezed Noctis a little tighter to get his attention, but before he could even speak up, Carbuncle caught onto Prompto's worries, and leaped from Bahamut's head. He landed on the ground in front of Nyx, and started assisting the man in combat.

"H-huh?" Noctis asked, his attention turning from where it had been moving to meet Prompto's eye, to follow Carbuncle to the ground.

Prompto released one arm from around Noctis' waist. "We have to go down. D-do you think Bahamut can carry Nyx, too?" he asked. "'Cause there's... there's no way that he'll be able to get there on his own. We've gotta help him somehow."

Without hesitation, Noctis nodded. Before Noctis even spoke his answer, Bahamut was moving, descending from the sky to land in the small circle that Carbuncle had created around Nyx. Carbuncle shot out a dome-like blast of light from its tiny figure, pushing the daemons back a couple of feet further, and then blasted one of the larger ones with a beam of light from its horn. Prompto—and Carbuncle, he assumed—knew that there was no way for them to take out all of the daemons in the area, but at least they could buy the group some time.

"Nyx! Climb up," Noctis commanded. "Pretty sure Bahamut can take all of us. We just gotta make it to that fissure and we'll be okay."

Relief washed over Nyx's face in a wave as he jogged to get to Bahamut. He didn't waste any time, just climbed up onto the dragon's back behind Prompto, his chest heaving in a desperate attempt to catch his breath. "Thank... the Astrals... you got here... when you did, Noct. Gladio took off after something and-"

Noctis nodded. "I know. Prom told me," he explained, as Carbuncle returned to its place on Bahamut's head. "We'll go after them, it's okay. We'll... we'll figure out what the hell got into him." As he continued, his voice became less and less certain. By the end, he was looking anxiously over toward the fissure that Gladio and Ignis had disappeared into. Running off like this wasn't like them. Maybe it was like Gladio, but not like Iggy. Not really.

As they flew toward the fissure, Nyx looked down at the massive throng of daemons that wound below them. "Damn. We knew it'd be bad in here. I don't think any of us expected this, though. You think we should go get the others?"

With a shake of his head, Noctis answered, "I mean, we probably _should_. But at the same time, we shouldn't, I don't think. It'd take us a long time to get everyone over the wall, and I'd have to fly them all the way to the fissure they just went into, which would be even worse. Y'know? So…"

So, as nervous as it made Prompto, Noctis was absolutely right. Despite that, though, he said, "I… I still think we should tell them. Let them know that things are complicated a-and we might need to find another way for them to get into the Disc." As he spoke, his hand was on his walkie talkie, and he was surprised when he heard Nyx hum his agreement from behind him.

"You two pay attention with your aeons. I'll let the others know. Don't worry, I'll tell 'em we can't come back without leaving Iggy and Gladio in a bad situation," Nyx offered, taking his own walkie talkie out and busying himself with talking to the others.

While Prompto looked at Noctis, he noticed that Noctis was looking anxiously down at the mouth of the fissure now. He raked his teeth over his lip as Bahamut hovered in place. Prompto squeezed him again, just slightly, to get his attention, and when he turned, Prompto asked, "what's wrong?" His tone was a little bit nervous, but only because he was feeding from the nervousness that Noctis was throwing off in waves.

Noctis shrugged a shoulder, glancing at Prompto over the opposite one. "We need a landing zone," he answered. "Daemons closed in around the mouth of the fissure, but we need to touch down. Bahamut's too big to fly around in there, and we-"

As soon as the words escaped Noctis' mouth, Carbuncle did a little hop-turn on Bahamut's head. It looked from Prompto to Noctis, then turned back around and leaped from the dragon's back once more, like it had when it jumped down to help Nyx. When it landed, it practically disappeared into the sea of daemons, but just like before, that didn't last very long. With a small dome-sized blast of light energy, it knocked back several of the daemons that impeded their landing. The space was still too small for Bahamut to land on safely, though. Carbuncle repeated the motion, with a slightly stronger light blast this time, and cleared a small area that was just large enough for Bahamut to land. As soon as it was clear, they did.

Once they were off, Prompto watched as Noctis took a glance into the fissure to try and get a look at the situation. He followed Noctis' lead, taking a glance into the small opening. The inside of the fissure didn't look like it housed nearly as many daemons as everything else in the area had. There were still daemons, yeah, but they were kind of spread out, a lot thinner than they were in the area around where Noctis, Prompto, and Nyx were standing. Nyx heaved a sigh when the radio call with the rest of the team cut off, and looked from Noctis to Prompto.

"Wesk agrees with you," he finally said to Noctis. "He says it'd be a really bad idea for them to go it alone, because they don't have aeons. Cor said he wants us to drag Gladio and Iggy out there if we gotta." The last part was spoken with a half-hearted smirk. "We better hope we do. This... this can't be another Pelna situation."

Prompto blinked at the mention of Pelna. All he knew of the guy was what Noctis had told him after they'd run into his daemon self back at Piztala Cove. Astrals, that had seemed like a lifetime ago, when it had really only been just over a month. Nyx's reaction to saying the name, though, the way he looked down at the ground somewhat dejectedly and huffed another humorless chuckle, told Prompto that it was definitely a sore subject. He watched as Noctis clapped a hand to Nyx's shoulder and shook his head.

Though Noctis didn't sound completely convinced of his words, he reassured Nyx. "It won't be. I don't care if we've gotta drag them out like Cor told us to. We're... we're all getting out of this in one piece. Right Prom?"

At the sound of his name, Prompto startled slightly. It took him a couple more seconds to register what Noctis was asking him, but when he did, he nodded, trying to portray the certainty that Noctis was having trouble finding. He wasn't exactly positive himself, but what he _was_ sure of, was the fact that he'd do everything in his power to make sure that everyone made it out of here. Noctis had lost enough in his life. The whole team had, too, but Noctis, especially. He called Carbuncle, who was fending off the daemons in the area with little blasts of light energy, over to them.

"We'll get out." Prompto wasn't sure how all _five_ of them would get out, but they'd figure it out.

Nyx didn't look reassured, but he nodded a nod that was a feeble attempt to calm himself, before nodding inside the fissure. "We gotta get in first, though." His eyes went to Bahamut. "Is it gonna fit in there?"

First, Noctis bit his lip and glanced up at the dragon, and then into the fissure. "Yeah. He'll fit. He won't be able to fly, but he'll fit." As if reading Noctis' words, Prompto watched as Bahamut touched down on the ground.

With that decided, the three of them with the two aeons moved into the fissure and into the narrow and winding path through the Disc. They had no idea where they were going, really. Every now and then, though, they'd have to stop to fight a stubborn daemon that was blocking their path to get through. Finally, after walking and fighting through the fissure for about twenty minutes, Prompto squinted against the soft light that Carbuncle created around them and sucked in a sharp gasp when he caught sight of the end of the narrow path. He was about to open his mouth and tell the others, when the sound of metal on metal, the clashing of blades, caught his attention.

Noctis, too, seemed drawn to the sound. "What the hell?" he called out.

"Someone other than Iggy and Gladio?" Nyx asked, confusion and concern etched into his features.

Nodding his agreement, Noctis said, "gotta be. There's no way that Specs and the Big Guy would ever... but who else?"

They were debating, but Prompto found himself worrying even more about what could be happening at the end of this path. Whatever it was, it involved the sound of metal on metal. Blade on blade. That couldn't be good, could it? "C'mon, guys," he called out, surprising himself with the words, and surprising himself even more when Noctis and Nyx both turned toward him. "W-we gotta go help. R-right?" The sudden attention had him stammering and stumbling again, but he couldn't really help it.

Nyx nodded. "The Squirt's right. C'mon, guys," he repeated.

Prompto would have been pleased, if Nyx didn't run out ahead of them... just like they'd chastised Ignis and Gladio for doing not too long ago. Noctis beckoned with his head for Prompto to follow, and together, the two of them hurried to the exit mouth of the fissure. When they stepped outside, though, nothing could have possibly prepared Prompto for what he saw.

At first glance, it looked like Nyx had been wrong. Ignis stood in a defensive posture, his two daggers crossed in an attempt to fend off a flourish of swirling slashes from Gladio. Gladio had his back to them as he relentlessly attacked, with both sword and shield. Before any of the three of them could register exactly what was happening, Gladio managed to get the upper hand, breaking Ignis' guard and sending him back a couple of feet, to the ground. Prompto blinked in amazement, unable to find words to comment on what he was seeing. Gladio strode forward, one, two, sauntering and cocky steps, greatsword raised in the air in a threat to drop and take Ignis out, or at least hurt him _really_ badly. Fortunately, Noctis was the first of the three of them to collect his brain enough to speak.

"Gladio!" Noctis shouted, his voice echoing throughout the rocky opening. "That's Iggy, you know! What the hell are you doing?"

Just as quickly as the advance started, Gladio turned, and that's when the situation all shifted into place in Prompto's mind. Red eyes. Bright, burning, red eyes. Gladio was always sort of smirking, but he was _never_ smirking like this, with the corner of his mouth curled maliciously. Maybe when he was fighting daemons, but... that wasn't the case this time.

This Gladio wasn't _fighting_ daemons. This Gladio _was_ a daemon. The situation cemented itself in Prompto's mind when he saw the _real_ Gladio, slumped unconscious on the ground, several feet behind Ignis.

"You," the daemon called, the grin on its face growing at the sight of Noctis. "Was wonderin' when you were gonna show up."

Words seemed to be escaping Noctis as he watched the daemon make a slow and pointed approach, toward where he stood a couple steps away from the fissure. Noctis and Bahamut both appeared frozen, but Bahamut hadn't disappeared yet, which was a good start. Nyx had closed the space between himself and Ignis in a couple of quick steps, helping Ignis up from the ground and grabbing his daggers from where they'd been knocked from his hands. As soon as Ignis was up and situated, though, Nyx moved toward Gladio in an attempt to wake him up. Prompto's attention was only half on them, though, because instead, he focused on where Noctis froze, taking a couple of steps back and away from the daemon version of Gladio.

Prompto, in vague awareness of the situation, turned to the daemon. He aimed and fired at it, and Carbuncle shot forth a beam of light, but the daemon version of Gladio evaded the blast and took the bullet to the shoulder with nothing but a recoil. Prompto could only blink at it, in stunned silence.

"Not so sure you wanna be focusing on _me_ when there's _that_ to worry about," the daemon taunted Prompto, pointing over its shoulder.

As if summoned by the daemon's movements, over the high wall of the clearing came none other than the very reason they were out here, to begin with. A behemoth. No, not just a behemoth, but a _dread_ behemoth. A dread behemoth with red eyes, much like this daemonic version of Gladio. A black aura swirled around it, and Prompto could only blink. He'd seen daemons before. A lot of them. This black aura, though... this was new. New and terrifying. Was this what it looked like when daemons were infused with living things?

Prompto barely had a chance to react to that. The behemoth was closing in on where Nyx was trying to help Gladio, and Ignis scrambled to his feet, placing himself in the middle of the path. Noctis was frozen in place, and Prompto had to make the very difficult decision of whether to protect Noctis, or to help Ignis. Logic told him that helping Ignis would assure that everyone else was still in one piece _to_ help Noctis, but his heart screamed at him. Desperation to save his best friend—the love of his life—from any further pain, be it physical or emotional, had him making a snap decision.

The connection with Carbuncle had it following Prompto's orders without him having to speak them. It dashed over to Ignis' side, shooting out a beam of light that only staggered the behemoth. Light killed daemons, didn't it? So, why was it only slowing the behemoth down? Maybe because it was only part daemon? Later. He could ask about that later, if anyone had any kind of answer. With Carbuncle helping Ignis as best it could, Prompto hurried over to Noctis' side, placing himself squarely between Gladio's daemon self and where Noctis stood frozen.

"Y-you can't. I won't let you..." Prompto's voice was wobbly, shaky, but he _wouldn't_ let this daemon harm Noctis.

Daemon Gladio laughed at Prompto. "You. Won't let me? That's hilarious. What, exactly, do you plan on doing? Not like your bullets did a whole hell of a lot, and I could crush you without even breaking a sweat, so... " With a swift motion, daemon Gladio raised his shield. In a motion just as swift, Prompto felt the impact of metal against his body. He couldn't stay standing. Down he went, crumpling in a pained heap a couple of feet away from Noctis and the daemon.

Prompto could have sworn that he heard Noctis shouting his name, but he couldn't hear anything for a couple of seconds, other than the echoing feeling of his ears ringing from the impact. Despite that, he tried to pick himself back up from the ground. It hurt, but he managed to move himself to a seated position on the rocks. The ringing slowly faded, and awareness of the situation started coming back as he looked around. Nyx had stopped trying to wake Gladio for the moment, and was on his feet, helping Ignis and Carbuncle fight the daemonized behemoth. Gladio still lay unconscious, several feet away from the fight.

A couple of feet away from Prompto, Gladio's daemon self bared further down on Noctis, backing him into the corner of the small clearing they were in. "While they're busy with that, I'll deal with you." The daemon chuckled a derisive note at Noctis. "Noct first. It's _always_ Noct first, isn't it? Doesn't matter who, doesn't matter when. Noct _always_ goes first."

Pulling himself to his feet, Prompto tried to run up behind Gladio's daemon self, catch it off guard with a close-up shot to the shoulder. It caught him before he made it, though, and used its shield to fling him away like a rag doll once again. He heard Noctis cry his name out for sure this time, desperation and sadness dripping from his tone like water from a faucet. Prompto impacted with the wall and let out a painful choke as he crumpled to the ground afterward. His whole body ached, but he pushed himself to his hands and knees all the same. His glasses were knocked off in the impact, and they'd skittered away somewhere in the area.

"The whole 'Noct first' attitude everyone around here's got can actually serve a purpose for me, though. When the _lesser_ me wakes up? Sees you dead? It'll just be the beginning. The shield failed to protect his little brother. And then I'll make him watch. One by one. As my pet and me take down _every. single. one_ of the rest of you. One by one. Save my sweetheart for last. And before I take his place? I go over the wall and slaughter all your buddies, too. Make him watch as I save little _Iris_ for last, there. And you can't stop me, can you, Noct?"

Once again, Prompto pulled himself to his feet. Blurred vision was way less important than getting to Noctis, getting him to see that Gladio's daemon self was just using the weaknesses that Noctis _knew_ he had to throw him off guard. When Prompto raised his head, though, he caught sight of the blurred silhouette of Bahamut behind Noctis. Just as quickly as he saw it, it disappeared. He'd lost his will to fight. The daemon was winning.

That was okay. Well, no. It _wasn't_ okay. Not by a long shot. But if Noctis couldn't find his will to fight, Prompto would fight for him. Because Prompto needed him. Just as Prompto opened his mouth to speak, the daemon Gladio surged forward, grabbing Noctis by the arm and pinning him to the wall. "I'd tell ya I'm gonna make it quick, but you know me, Noct. I've never been much of a liar."

Noctis cried out against the grip, and Prompto hurried toward the daemon again. The sound of the dread behemoth's growls as Nyx, Ignis, and Carbuncle _desperately_ tried to fight it echoed in the surrounding area, but selfishly, all Prompto wanted was to get the daemon _away_ from Noctis. To stop it from hurting him. He was halted in his rush, though, by a loud and deafening cracking sound, followed by a piercing wail from Noctis. It had broken something. Noctis' arm, maybe. Desperation had Prompto rushing up behind the daemon, leaping onto its back and grabbing it around the neck.

"L-leave him alone! S-stop it!" Prompto cried out, yanking at the daemon and trying to yank it away from Noctis, before it hurt him anymore.

With ease, it shoved Prompto from its back and onto the ground again, and turned back to Noctis as Prompto tried to scramble to his feet. "Remember what that other me told you?" the daemon taunted, twisting Noctis' arm and making him cry out again. "Heroics end up getting people killed? Guess _he's_ the one that needed to learn that lesson, _huh_ , Noct?"

Prompto was still struggling a bit to stand, and because of that, Carbuncle stopped moving, before finally disappearing into thin air. Prompto's hands—while they groped desperately along the ground to push himself to his feet, to make one last attempt to help Noctis escape Gladio's daemon self—brushed along something familiar on the ground. His glasses! Hurrying them to his face, and fighting off a flash of disappointment when he realized that they were cracked even more now than they were before, Prompto's eyes darted around at their surroundings. Ignis and Nyx were trying desperately to gain any kind of advantage with the behemoth. Gladio's daemon self had Noctis in a sleeper hold, and Noctis was trying, with his one good arm, to get out. And Gladio himself-

-wasn't lying down anymore. No, quite the contrary, actually. He was pulling himself to his feet, slowly but surely, grunting through it all. It was obvious that he was in some sort of pain, but he kept going, until he was finally standing up. Panicked but assessing eyes went from the behemoth, to his daemon self, and then to Prompto on the ground, and with another grunt, he steadied himself on the wall.

"Hey! Fake!" Gladio shouted. "If you're s'posed to be me, you should damn well have known that it was gonna take more than _that_ to keep me down."

The daemon turned his head, but when that didn't put the real Gladio in his view, he completely abandoned Noctis. Noctis gasped and coughed on the ground, gasping desperately to fill his lungs, and before the daemon turned to face Gladio, it delivered a sharp and firm kick to Noctis' ribcage. Noctis coughed and sputtered again, curling in on himself on the ground.

A grunt, similar to the one Gladio gave, but filled with about a thousand times more malice, escaped the daemon's throat. As soon as the daemon passed by Prompto, Prompto crawled across the ground to get to Noctis' side. Before he allowed himself to fuss over Noctis _too_ much, though, he turned to look at Gladio, who was flashing his daemon self a confident smirk.

"Gladio..." Ignis spoke up, his attention finally turning from where he fought the behemoth. "Please be-"

Daemon Gladio growled a far more fierce growl than the behemoth could ever _dream_ of, and surged toward Ignis, using its shield to throw him back in a far-too-similar fashion to how it had thrown Prompto back moments ago. "Shut up!" the daemon snapped, then turned toward Gladio again.

It was a relief to see that the daemon hadn't hurt Ignis _too_ much, if the way he trying to push himself up from the ground was any indication. Relief didn't last, though. The daemon stepped closer to Gladio, who looked like he was fighting against the instinct to run over and help Ignis. Fighting _hard_ against it. Instead, he gave a gruff chuckle.

"Big mistake," he snapped.

The daemon shrugged. "Can't imagine what you're gonna do about it." And without another word, it surged forward, pinning Gladio to the wall with its shield. "Was gonna make you watch as I killed all your friends first, but this works just as well. Any last words? Before I crush your spine like a fucking eggshell?"

Another chuckle, and Gladio nodded. "Yeah. Three," he raised his chin. "Crush 'em, Titan!"

Titan? Prompto had barely any time to question that, when he noticed a sigil—earthen brown in color—lighting the ground beneath Gladio's feet. The daemon was distracted, and Gladio used the advantage, shoving it back a few steps. As the sigil glowed, the ground beneath Prompto began to shake. Several large rocks fell from around them, hitting the ground and rumbling it like an earthquake. From the earth, almost as if it sprouted out like a plant and then floated up just slightly like a half-full balloon, came a large stone creature. It looked human, almost. Like a golem, maybe. The earthquake threw the behemoth off balance, and was enough to allow Nyx to plunge a dagger into its eye. The dagger sent the behemoth into retreat. It was most likely not permanent, but for now, it climbed back to the top of the cliff face to recover. Prompto watched as Nyx stumbled backward into the wall, leaning heavily against it, and looking helplessly out at the scene unfolding around them.

"G-Gladio is that-" Ignis started to ask.

Gladio nodded. "Yeah. Heard it calling me while I was out. We'll talk later, though. For now, I've gotta deal with _this_ fuck." Once again, no words were exchanged between Gladio and his aeon, but it seemed like the aeon knew exactly what to do.

The daemon started to surge forward again, but before it could even make it a single step, Gladio's aeon—Titan—clapped it's giant boulder-like hands together. From the ground came a giant stone prison. The prison perfectly surrounded the daemon version of Gladio, making it look almost like a carved statue of Gladio's body. Gladio staggered a little bit, his aches and the exhaustion of a first summoning working against him, but he managed to keep it together long enough to nod at Titan once more. A second clap, and the stone statue closed in completely, crushing Gladio's daemon self into a puff of daemon smoke as the rocks crumbled to the ground.

Prompto could only stare, wide-eyed, at where the daemon used to be. He turned his head to look at Gladio, who was breathing deep and heavy as he turned to look up at his aeon. Silent communication. Prompto understood it, oddly enough. Titan looked back at Gladio, but if there was return communication, Prompto didn't get a chance to see. Gladio teetered, before falling to the ground once again, unconscious.

Across the way, Ignis scrambled to his feet, closing the distance between himself and Gladio as quickly as he could. He hobbled a bit, and Prompto wondered if maybe he had some sort of ankle or knee injury. Later. They could worry about that later. Ignis fell to his knees next to Gladio, throwing himself desperately over Gladio's unconscious form and appearing to lose himself in panic and concern for the first time.

Nyx still leaned heavily against the wall, looking between Gladio and Ignis, and Noctis and Prompto in concern. "Not again..." he murmured. "N-not again..."

In the relative silence, Prompto recalled what he'd said earlier. About Pelna. Nyx had lost his team in a situation very similar to this, and they were _very much_ not out of the water yet. The behemoth was still nearby. Desperate eyes looked through cracked glasses for an escape route, and Prompto breathed in a shaky breath. Titan's earthquake had shaken loose several rocks, which blocked their entrance into the fissure. The only way out was over the cliff face, and there was no way Noctis could get them all out quickly enough, alone, on Bahamut's back.

They really _were_ in trouble. And it was worse than he thought.

The sound of slow-clapping applause echoed throughout the area. Prompto's eyes shot desperately around the area, looking for the source, and when he found it, his stomach dropped. A second daemon self— _Nyx's_ daemon self—stood up at the top of the cliff, overlooking the group of them in the small clearing. The behemoth stood next to it, growling like it was waiting for an order to strike again.

Fear sprang up, and Prompto subconsciously placed himself protectively in front of Noctis. They weren't in the clear yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throwin' a little _twist_ at ya! :o
> 
> Don't worry, I'm sure nicoleiacross will cover some of the Gladnis stuff in her companion fic. She always does right by this stuff, yeah? ♥


	36. Disc (III)

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Nyx's daemon self taunted from up above, looking out at the group of them. Taunting eyes finally fell on Nyx, and the daemon jumped down from the cliffside. He motioned for the behemoth to hold off, before turning his attention to Nyx fully. "Can't seem to keep ourselves from these messes, can we?"

Prompto stared, wide-eyed, at the daemon. No, there was no rule that said that two daemon selves couldn't show up in one place, but Prompto never expected it to happen. At least not here. He turned to look at Noctis, who was half-sitting up, but still cradling his arm and trying desperately to stave off tears. Prompto still kept himself squarely in front of Noctis, realizing then that his focus had returned enough that he could probably summon Carbuncle again at the first opportunity. No one else was going to get hurt. Not here. Not ever, but especially not here.

Nyx huffed in annoyance at his daemon clone. "Isn't a situation yet," he responded, but there was a slight lilt in his tone that suggested that he wasn't being entirely truthful.

Behind him, Noctis tried to stand, using his opposite arm to push himself into a fully seated position first. Prompto turned just slightly. "Don't, Noct," he told his friend. He tried to sound commanding, hoped that Noctis would actually listen, but his voice was thick with worry and wobbled a little when he wanted it to sound strong.

Still, much to his surprise, Noctis didn't move much more. "But I-"

"I know," Prompto nodded. "But you're hurt. I-"

Nyx—the daemon version—huffed an annoyed sigh, interrupting Prompto in the process. "It's no wonder our people keep dying," it said, turning to look at Nyx again. "If this is what we're dealing with. That's what you say to yourself all the time, isn't it? Trying to lead a team where no one listens to you, and it always ends with them running off into stupid situation after stupid situation and getting themselves killed? It happened two years ago in Malmalam, and here we are, primed for it to happen again." The daemon sighed. "Thought we'd've learned from last time. But I guess that was expecting too much from us, huh?"

The real Nyx pressed his mouth closed tightly, trying desperately to deflect the daemon's taunts. "Shut up," was all he said at first.

His daemon self laughed and rolled its eyes. "So clever. Maybe that's why we never learn, huh? 'Cause there's not a ton up there to begin with. Not clever enough to save people, all brawn but no brain. Everything we plan fails. Our mom and sister can attest to that, huh? The way they suffered back in Galahd. Can't save our team from those Malmalam daemons. Weren't strong enough to go with Regis and Clarus, so he got killed with weak-ass Noct instead. Can't even keep Luna from suffering every damn night because we've got no damn clue what's wrong with her. And now, we can't even reign in the muscled idiot over there long enough for Captain Reckless to get back from shuttling your dumb asses over the gate."

It was obvious that Nyx was trying, _desperately_ trying, not to let it get to him. The look in his eyes, though, the way they went from anger at the mention of his mother and sister, to sadness at the mention of his team, to complete and utter misery at the mention of Regis and Clarus, and then finally to a mix of desperation and fear at the mention of the situation they were currently in, suggested that it was. It really was. "We're not dying here," was all he said in response. But he didn't push up from the wall, didn't return to fighting stance; made no indication that he planned to fight back at all.

"Sure," the daemon shrugged its head to the side. "Keep telling yourself that. Let's say, by some miracle, you _do_ make it out of here, though. How long can you keep living like this? Can you protect _anyone_? How long 'til Luna and Crowe pay for it? Wouldn't you be happier letting _me_ deal with all that instead? Letting me take your place?"

That, more than anything, got Nyx to react. He snorted a laugh and raised his chin in threat at his daemon self. "Nice try. Shit might not always be easy. Hell, might not even be good most of the time, but these idiots are my family. You think I'm gonna _let_ you take my place so you can go out there and try and hurt 'em? You're even dumber than you think I am," he finally pushed himself away from the wall and put his hands on his daggers again. "You wanna take my place? You're gonna have to earn it. And since I don't see that happening? Be ready for some disappointment." He took a fighting stance.

Daemon Nyx just laughed. "Suit yourself. It'll be easy for me, either way."

There was no time to react. In the time it took Prompto to blink, Nyx's daemon self had cut across the short area separating them with blinding speed, pinning Nyx to the wall with a forearm to the collarbone. "What's Luna gonna say?" the daemon asked Nyx, raising one of the daggers and turning it over in front of Nyx's face. "You'll never come back. She'll know you died, and there's _nothing_ she'll be able to do about it. Never got to say goodbye, _just_ like her parents." A heavy, put upon sigh escaped the daemon's lips.

Something. Prompto had to do _something_. It still wasn't determined how they'd get out of this place, but if he just sat there and did nothing, and let this daemon version of Nyx _kill_ Nyx, allowed someone to take away Luna's one true love, he'd never forgive himself. It was then that he realized that only one pair of eyes were focused on him, and those belonged to Noctis. No one was paying attention, because no one thought he would be able to do anything. It was the perfect chance to get _some_ kind of upper hand. It would probably be minor. Probably only temporary. If it could get the daemon away from Nyx for even a split second, though, it would be worth it.

With that in his mind, Prompto looked to the sky. "Please, Carbuncle! I need your help!"

The fox appeared at his side, and fired a beam of light toward the spot that Nyx and his daemon self stood. The daemon, which hadn't killed Nyx yet, shot back about two feet, easily evading the light blast, turning its attention on Prompto. "You keep _trying_ to slow us down. You did it with that one, too," it pointed out, motioning vaguely to where Ignis still lie over Gladio's unconscious form. "You'd think, by now, you'd realize that there's nothing anybody can do. Especially you." It looked Prompto over derisively.

During the time that the daemon took to taunt Prompto, Nyx had crept from the wall to stand behind his daemon self, reared back, and plunged a dagger into its throat. Prompto wished that he'd had the time to tell Nyx that things like that didn't matter, didn't harm daemons, but it was too late now. The daemon reached up and grabbed hold of Nyx's wrist while he held the dagger in place. It both yanked the dagger from its throat, and pulled Nyx's arm back, twisting until Nyx hissed in agony and dropped the dagger. Using its advantage, it pushed Nyx into the wall. Nyx hit the floor, the wind knocked out of him, and struggled to pick himself back up.

Carbuncle shot another beam of light at the daemon, who easily evaded it, and grunted its annoyance. "You!" it called to the behemoth, who still stood, just watching. "Keep that one busy while I take my rightful place!"

The command took root, and the dread behemoth let out a bellowing wail that shook the earth beneath Prompto's feet. It leaped back down from the wall, red eyes—one half-closed, and bleeding from Nyx's dagger strike—baring down on Prompto in threat as it growled, low and threatening in Prompto's face. Fear rooted Prompto in place, and in turn, Carbuncle stopped moving, too. Behind Prompto, he heard shuffling movement, as well as a hiss of pain, as Noctis pulled himself to his feet. Prompto _wanted_ to tell him to stop, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Despite not wanting Noctis to hurt himself, he was _also_ scared out of his mind.

Which was why the sound of Noctis calling Bahamut back comforted him more than he was willing to admit. Noctis wasn't okay, not by any stretch of the imagination, if the way he held his arm to his chest was any indication. But he was forcing himself through it, walking up to Prompto's side, and taking his sword in his good hand. His main hand, fortunately. How was he going to do this without hurting his other arm? Later. Prompto would focus on that later. A second swell of relief came over him when he saw another dagger coming from Ignis' direction, thrown into the air and then kicked at the behemoth in a flourish. It impacted with the creature's shoulder with a sickly squish, and Ignis, in furious speed, grabbed the dagger and tore it from the creature's shoulder.

"We're _not_ dying here, are we clear?" Ignis commanded the group. "We'll get out. Somehow."

Prompto and Noctis both nodded. Bahamut and Carbuncle took the cue, combining their power to attack. Carbuncle shot light from its horn, and Bahamut flew high overhead, raining a dark mist on the behemoth like a normal dragon would its fire. The behemoth recoiled for a couple of seconds, and Prompto took the opportunity to tell Noctis, "help Ignis! Carbuncle and me will go help Nyx!"

Admittedly, Prompto was hesitant to leave Noctis' side. He was in pain. His arm was almost definitely broken. Still, he managed to pick himself up and now he had to face a dread behemoth. Daemon selves, though, required more attention, and Prompto was not going to let Nyx's daemon self take him down. Luna deserved better. Nyx deserved better. Carbuncle sensed his intention, and without waiting for Noctis' response, turned and shot a blast of light at Nyx's daemon self again.

The daemon turned on Prompto now, turning its back from where it bore down on Nyx, ready to strike, and threw one of its daggers at him. Prompto was barely able to dodge in time, but when he did, the dagger sailed right into the behemoth's already-injured eye. Prompto's heart hammered in his chest, at how close he'd just come to either death or a very severe injury, but before he had a chance to process that, another ear-piercing howl bellowed out around them, and the behemoth's thundering steps shook the whole area, nearly sending Prompto to the ground. He managed to keep his balance, but Noctis and Ignis—who were already dealing with some pretty severe injuries—didn't fare so well. Noctis hit the ground with a yelp, and Ignis stumbled on his unsteady knee, falling back closer to Gladio's unconscious form.

Bahamut froze in the air, but didn't disappear. Noctis had lost his focus, but had managed to get back his will to fight. That was good. That was very good. As soon as the shock wore off, Noctis was picking himself back up from the ground slowly, but Bahamut went back to running distraction and keeping the behemoth away from the rest of them. Carbuncle shot out another blast of light, which grazed Nyx's daemon self and caused it to stagger, then fall to the ground. They didn't get to enjoy the advantage, though, because the behemoth spun with speed a creature so big had no right to actually have, and swept the whole area with its massive tail. Prompto didn't even see it. It just struck him in the back, knocking him into a heap on the ground. When he raised his head, he noticed that everyone else was on the ground again. Including daemon Nyx.

The real Nyx, too, was in a heap, with his back facing the team. All the times Prompto had been thrown back _finally_ started to catch up to him, and for the first time, he struggled to stand. Carbuncle and Bahamut had stopped attacking, and then both aeons disappeared into the night.

It seemed like daemon Nyx noticed this, and the whole area filled with his wicked laughter as he pulled himself to his feet. "Once again," it shouted, its voice echoing in the space, almost as loud as the behemoth's growl. "You get everyone in your group killed! You see what I mean? Look out around you!" The daemon strode quickly up to Nyx, hauling him up from the ground by the collar of his shirt and shoving him forward.

"Look at it!" the daemon taunted. "Look at your friends and what you did to them!"

From behind Prompto, Noctis spoke. "Bullshit!" His voice was pained, strangled, more of a cough than actual words, but it was enough to get the daemon's attention.

Ignis, from the opposite side of the behemoth, huffed his agreement. "Quite a sophomoric tactic, really," he commented, his voice a bit shaky and strangled as well. "Trying to scare the person you're mimicking into submission by bringing up past weaknesses. Is that the extent of you daemons' capabilities? If so, that's quite a shame."

The daemon's eyes narrowed. "Yeah well, like human like daemon. Isn't that right, me?" it asked Nyx.

When Prompto's attention went to Nyx, though, Nyx wasn't looking at them, at the behemoth, _or_ at his daemon self. No, his eyes were on the sky, as if searching for something. Could it be? Was it possible that a _second_ new aeon would be showing up tonight? The exact second that the question entered Prompto's mind, Nyx's eyes glinted, and a smirk overtook his face.

He didn't offer any pretense, didn't make a big show of things... nothing. Instead, he just elbowed his daemon self in the midsection, jumped back to put a bit of distance between them, and shouted, "rise, Phoenix!"

The orange sigil that appeared under Nyx's feet should have surprised Prompto, but at this point, he was more relieved than anything. Anything, _anything_ , that could possibly give them the upper hand here was more than welcome. A part of Prompto started to wonder if all of them had aeons, but he resolved that it wasn't the time for questions like that. Maybe later. Maybe once they got out of here, back home, and patched themselves up a little bit—or a lot, in Noctis and Ignis' case—he'd ask.

It was almost like something out of an action movie, the way the giant and colorful bird soared over the edge of the cliff. It shone almost as brightly as Carbuncle did, a bright, fire orange beacon in the darkness, and as it flew over them, it rained feathers—how green feathers fell from an orange bird was a mystery, but not one he was going to question—down over the area. Prompto couldn't resist it. One of the feathers fell into his space, and he reached out to grab it. As soon as it touched his hand, all of the aches and pains that wracked his aching body dulled. They didn't disappear, and that told him that the effects were likely only temporary, but they dulled to nothing but a stiffness in his joints and muscles as the feather dissipated into nothingness in his hand.

Nyx, too, held a feather, and with let off a shout of, "grab a feather, guys!" to the rest of them, before turning his eyes to the sky, as the giant bird descended to hover at his side.

The bird was bigger than Bahamut. It was about half the size of the behemoth, honestly. It looked far more delicate, but Prompto quickly realized how far off base that concept was. In a spin of wings, the bird soared forward, stopping right in front of Nyx's daemon self. A second rain of feathers—this one concentrated in a smaller spot—fell upon the daemon. They hit quickly, three in a row, and each spot they hit on the daemon's skin seared straight through. The daemon cried in agony, trying to rip the feathers from its body, and as horrible, as _terrifying_ as the sight was, Prompto couldn't pull his eyes away.

Before long, the daemon had disappeared into a puff of flame and daemon smoke, and all that was left was the behemoth. Nyx, his desolation changing a bit, morphing on his face into hope and determination, turned to look at Prompto and Noctis. "I know you two feel like hell. So do I. But I'm gonna need your help, alright? Or, more specifically, Bahamut and Carbuncle. Kinda wish Gladio was awake, too, but we'll make do. Stand back, Iggy. Check on Gladio. This is gonna get intense."

At first, it didn't look like Ignis liked being told to stand back. After a couple of seconds passed, though, he did as Nyx suggested, hurrying over to Gladio and standing protectively in front of his boyfriend. Even as he did that, though, he didn't take his eyes away from the bird. It wasn't mistrust, at least Prompto didn't think so. No, it was more like amazement. Complete and total bewilderment, but also a strong hint of fascination, at what was taking place before him.

Prompto nodded, and he saw Noctis walking—with slightly more confidence in his step, but his arm still cradled against his chest—up beside him. The weakest twitch of a smile crossed Noctis' face, though he obviously still hurt. He flashed a triumphant smirk Prompto's way, before turning to look at the behemoth.

Almost like it was sensing the fact that it was being challenged, the behemoth let out another growl. It ended up being the last thing it did, though, because from three sources, from Bahamut, Carbuncle, and now Phoenix, a respective blast of purple, white, and orange shot out. The dragon and the bird flew around the monster, attacking from all angles as they almost seemed to create a vortex. It wasn't strong enough to hold the behemoth back, no. But it _did_ take him off guard for long enough to allow Carbuncle to fire a steady stream of white from its horn. The behemoth's growl this time was pained. For several seconds, it recoiled back further and further, until it was pinned in the corner of the clearing, and still being blasted by three different kinds of magic.

With a few more seconds of that, the behemoth was dead. The black aura faded from the corpse, and floated up into the air like daemon smoke.  Now,  Prompto was left with a thousand more questions, and not even one answer.

Remarkably, Nyx didn't pass out right away. No, instead, Phoenix shook a few more feathers loose. More green feathers. Nyx picked one up, and he motioned for the others to do the same. "I'm pretty sure these green feathers heal us. It's temporary, and we're all gonna feel like absolute _hell_ later, but... at least they should keep us on our feet until we get back to the rest of the group."

The very second the words escaped, the green-shift of Hour Twenty-Five started to overtake Prompto's vision. The bellows of the daemons in the Disc increased about tenfold, and Prompto found himself worried not only about _their_ safety, but about their friends on the other side of the gate.

Ignis, who was on his feet and barely managing to support Gladio, whose arm hung from his shoulders, spoke up first. "Our exit is blocked, however. Nyx, do you think that your aeon—that Phoenix—will be able to carry you, Gladio, and I? And Noct, do you think you can focus long enough with the current condition of your arm to allow Bahamut to carry you and Prompto?" he asked.

The first to answer was Noctis. "Yeah. Those feathers... it doesn't hurt half as much right now," he admitted.

Nyx answered next, nodding his head. "And Phoenix can handle the rest of us, easily. Not sure exactly how I know, but... he's way stronger than he looks." As he spoke, he hurried up to Gladio's opposite side and draped the unconscious man's arm over his shoulders.

"That's just a thing," Noctis answered, as Bahamut flew back over to his side. "Not sure how, but I don't wanna question it, since it's saved our asses multiple times." He climbed up onto Bahamut's back, his motions slightly labored by his arm.

Carbuncle trotted up to Prompto, black eyes looking up at him for a second, before he hopped onto Bahamut's head once more. Prompto nodded. "Weshkam said he thinks that they either understand us, or have some kind of weird mental link with us." As he spoke, he walked over to Bahamut, and climbed up behind Noctis. His hands found their way to Noctis' waist, before realizing that it probably wasn't wise, with Noctis' broken arm, and the way Gladio's daemon self had kicked him in the rib cage. Slowly, he pulled them back.

Nyx was quiet for a second, as he helped Gladio and Ignis up onto Phoenix's back. "I'm sure Specs and Wesk can figure it out. They always do. Right?" he asked Ignis, as he climbed up onto Phoenix's back, too.

For a couple of second, Ignis was quiet, as he looked at Gladio's unconscious form. A couple of beats passed, though, and then he turned his head to look out across the rest of the group, determination plain on his face. "Yes," he answered. "I _promise_ you. I will find the answers to everything."

Something about how Ignis said that worried Prompto, and as he turned to look at Noctis, he could see the worry etched on his best friend's face, too. Noctis shook it off, though, before turning to glance at Prompto. "Um... y-you might wanna hold onto me," he suggested. "My middle's kind of a massive _ow_ right now, but... you can..." He paused, biting his lip, before saying, "my hips. You can put your hands on my hips."

Prompto nodded, trying not to allow his cheeks to heat up as he placed his hands gently on Noctis' hips. It was only because he had to. Not because he wanted to. Well, okay, _partially_ because he wanted to. But... he really _didn't_ want to, when both of them were going to become giant human incarnations of pain whenever these magic aeon feathers wore off. He pressed his chest loosely to Noctis' back, and let his eyes fall closed just slightly when they took off.

Now that they were safe, at least somewhat, the whole situation was dawning on him. As they flew back—on a spectral dragon and a spectral bird—the whole time, all Prompto could think of was how close each and every one of them had come to dying. No. They weren't _actually_ close to dying. Gladio was unconscious, but Prompto had to allow himself to hope that it was just the aeon coma. Noctis had been through it. Prompto had been through it. By some mystery, though, Nyx wasn't going through it. It was fortunate, of course, but... it was worrisome at the same time.

As they flew over the hoards of angry, fighting daemons, Noctis turned his head. "You okay?" he asked. "I mean... aside from the obvious."

Snorting a humorless laugh, Prompto nodded. "I just... I'm thinking about everything. All the stuff that happened back there," he confessed. "We all... we almost died. Two daemon-selves and a dread behemoth, Noct. We _could_ have died." He swallowed nervously.

Noctis frowned, looking down at all of the daemons. "I know," he answered. "I... you were really amazing back there. Standing up for me. Trying to get that daemon Gladio away from me. Thanks." His eyes weren't on Prompto, but Prompto figured that it had more to do with the fact that he couldn't turn without agitating his sore ribs and his arm.

"I... I just decided, y'know, if you lost your will to fight? I'll just fight twice as hard for both of us." Pausing sharply when he realized what he said, Prompto clamped down hard on his lip. When he let go, he tried to correct it. "I... I mean... for you. You'd... you'd do it for me. Right?" he asked.

With a nod, Noctis answered, "yeah, of course. I'd do pretty much anything for you. But... still. Thanks. I owe you one."

Prompto shook his head. "No you don't. I'd do pretty much anything for you, too. S-so... yeah." He shrugged.

Noctis breathed a soft and sharp breath of laughter, and after that, things were completely quiet until they got back to the gate. As they approached, Prompto saw their team, their friends, their _family_ , standing in the safety of the three vehicles' headlights. Hour Twenty-Five's green aura had all of the daemons in the area inching closer and closer to the safe area they stood in, but right then, all Prompto could focus on was the fact that everyone stared at Nyx's aeon in amazement. They landed several yards away from the cars, but before they could step forward toward their family... Nyx's voice caught Prompto's attention.

"Hey. Make sure Luna knows that it's just 'cause of my aeon, okay? That... that I'm fine?" As Nyx spoke, his voice sounded _completely_ exhausted. As soon as Noctis and Ignis both nodded their agreement to the request, Nyx teetered on his feet, and fell to the ground, unconscious.

Prompto allowed himself to take solace in the fact that he was still breathing. And so was Gladio. They were fine. It was just because of their aeons. They were fine. "They're fine..." he murmured to himself.

But that didn't stop Luna and Iris both from running across the expanse between the cars and the group. Luna hit her knees in front of Nyx, and Iris took Nyx's place, helping Ignis support Gladio.

"What in Astrals' name happened to you?" Iris asked, turning from Nyx to look up at everyone else, worry changing momentarily to anger, and then back to worry, on her face.

Luna ran her fingers along Nyx's face, busying herself with taking his pulse, and that was when the rest of the group arrived. Ignis instantly busied himself with checking Gladio's vital signs. Crowe was down on her knees at Luna's side, worrying over Nyx, while Cor and Weskham leaned down to look over Noctis' injuries. Aranea and Cindy arrived at Prompto's sides, and while Cindy's face was concerned, Aranea looked way more stern. "No seriously. What in the _hell_ happened? You look like you were in a damn gang fight."

With a soft sigh, Prompto turned to look at Noctis, and then back over at the rest of the team. "Can I just... tell you later? I promise. I promise I'll tell you later."

Cindy nodded, stepping forward and wrapping her arms tightly around Prompto's shoulders. "You damn well better, y'hear me?" she insisted.

Joining Cindy and Prompto in the embrace, Aranea bobbed her head in agreement, too. "As long as you're all right, that's all I care about. You and all the other idiots," she added with a halfhearted laugh.

"We're... we'll be okay."

Prompto tried to sound sure of that fact, but now that he was back with everyone else, now that everything was said and done, he wasn't sure. They'd come here to find answers, but all they'd come out with was more questions. He really, really hoped that someday, they'd come closer to some kind of answer. For now, though... he was just glad that they'd all escaped with their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE ALMOST DONE WITH PART ONE, GUYS. IDK HOW I FEEL.
> 
> I have the next two chapters pre-planned, so those shouldn't take too long to poke out. Hopefully! We'll see how things go!


	37. Victory?

When Gladio and Nyx finally awoke the next day, Weskham called a meeting for later that night. He'd suspended all operations for the foreseeable future, and told them that he had something very, very important to inform them of. Whatever it was, when he said it, his expression was stern and serious. So, Noctis had the sneaking and stomach-sinking suspicion that it wasn't good.

Everyone still looked like hell, though honestly, that was to be expected, the day after a mission like that. The girls looked exhausted, but Ignis, Gladio, Nyx, Prompto, and Noctis looked like they'd been on the wrong end of a fight against a group of MMA champions or something. Noctis had a cracked rib and a broken bone in his forearm, and even though he was on ordered bed rest for at least a couple of weeks so that he could start to heal, he wasn't going to miss the meeting for anything. So, though he moved slow, Prompto crutched at his pace and the two of them made their way to the lounge.

"Stairs," Noctis murmured as they crossed the quad between their cabin and the lounge. "I didn't even think about the stairs."

The war room was down at the bottom of a very tall staircase, and neither Noctis, nor Prompto was really in any condition to go down a flight of stairs. Prompto, for his part, had managed not to break anything. Somehow. The trio of doctors that Weskham and Cor had called to the compound had told Prompto that he had a separated shoulder, four bruised ribs, a bruised kneecap—which had him on crutches—and several pulled muscles in that same leg. The bruised bone on his hip, too, was on the same side. The doctor said that most of that had probably happened to Prompto when the shield had impacted him the first time. She'd also said that for them to fully heal and be in fighting shape again, it could take a month and a half. Noctis wasn't really in love with the concept of being stuck at home for over a month, but at the very least, they had the trip to Altissia in a month to look forward to.

And they were still going, they'd both decided earlier that morning. Injuries or no.

Prompto whined a soft note in response to Noctis' complaint about the stairs. "You think it's too late to bail? To ask Weskham to send us the cliff notes version of whatever it is he wants to tell us?" There was the slightest hint of hope in his voice, though he didn't sound completely sure.

Truthfully, Noctis wished that it was possible, but he shook his head no. "I think so. Wesk wouldn't have called the meeting with us in this condition, let alone with that look on his face, if there wasn't something pretty serious going on."

Something serious, for them, was usually pretty bad news. The last time they'd had a real meeting, called officially, was shortly after Noctis' dad and Gladio's dad had passed. Noctis, fortunately, couldn't foresee them splitting the team up. Not only had they been getting along really, really well lately, but they'd gotten a lot of work done. The smaller groups they'd taken to fighting in had proven really, really useful. That was the only thing that had him feeling remotely calm as they slowly crawled their way through the grass. Still, it wasn't enough to take his mind away from what could have possibly put forth the need for a meeting after a night like last night.

The responding sigh that Prompto gave made Noctis a little more nervous, but he nodded his understanding. "Especially if he's making Nyx, Ignis, and Gladio come too." He frowned.

Ignis, from all accounts, had passed out in the car on the way back from the Disc the night prior. He'd ended up riding home with Iris and Crowe in his car, while Noctis and Prompto had gone with Aranea and Cindy, and Nyx and Luna with Cor and Weskham. According to Iris, they'd had to pull over twice to make sure that Ignis didn't stay unconscious for too long. He had a concussion, according to the doctors, and a dislocated kneecap, sprained wrists, and a dislocated shoulder. Gladio was least injured of all of them, but that really didn't matter much when he was still sporting a fractured bone in his elbow, a strained muscle in his opposite arm, a rolled ankle, and a pair of bruised bones in his back, not to _mention_ a ton of smaller cuts and bruises from fighting with his daemon self.

It could have been a lot worse. It probably _should_ have been a lot worse. Noctis gave himself a mental shake. Now wasn't the time to think about that. They'd made it back. They were alive. _That_ was what was important right now. Well, and whatever Cor ad Weskham had to say to them.

"Everyone's okay, r-right?" Prompto asked, his voice meek and quiet, and his steps slowing just slightly. Worry was plain as the cuts and bruises on his face—as the cracks in his glasses—and he looked to Noctis for reassurance.

Noctis nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, everyone's fine. When Iris came to check on us see us this morning, she said she was doing rounds to all the rooms, remember? She didn't leave any names out when we asked how everyone was." And Noctis had made sure to ask. It was his half-awake brain's way of taking a stock of everyone to see how they were, and he was glad he had. Everyone was hurt and tired, but okay. That was what Iris had said.

Nodding and relaxing just slightly, Prompto glanced at the door. "R-right. Right, thanks." He flashed Noctis a weak smile.

It would be okay. It would be fine. They just needed to get through this meeting, and then make their way back to their cabin to relax for the rest of the day. As Noctis opened the door to the lounge, he was surprised to see the group gathered in the dining area. All of the war room necessities—Cor and Weskham's maps, and several of the books from the bookshelves—were spread out on the center dining table. Of course, it should have come as absolutely no surprise that Weskham had thought of their injuries when it came to holding this meeting. Any comfort that Noctis felt when that thought entered his mind, though, disappeared when he saw the looks on Cor and Weskham's faces.

Admittedly, a rush of panic had Noctis dashing his eyes around the room to do a quick head count. Had someone died overnight? Had Iris not been able to figure out how to tell him? No. No, everyone was here. Even Ignis was in the room, sporting a pair of very dark sunglasses, likely to block out the sun and preserve his aching head.

Everyone was here. Everyone was, more or less, okay. So, why did Cor and Weskham look so tragic? As he glanced around the room, he couldn't help but notice that the only other people who held Cor and Weskham's level of concern were Luna and Nyx. Luna drummed her fingernails on the counter, only stopping when Ignis—as politely as he possibly could—asked her to stop because it was hurting his head. Noctis' eyes fell upon Nyx, who had his wrist wrapped and a brace on for a minor back injury that his daemon self had given him. Nyx met his gaze, then turned to look at Cor and Weskham.

It was Nyx who spoke first. "Noct and Prom are here. D'we... d'we wanna get this over with?" he asked.

Cor turned to look at Noctis, then at Prompto, and nodded his head. "Yes. Sorry to call everyone here when you're all obviously feeling so miserable," he offered, scratching the back of his neck and huffing out a sigh. "Do you guys want to have a seat?" He pulled out a chair nearby for each Noctis and Prompto.

Prompto crutched over to the chair and lowered himself down into it gingerly. He didn't relax—the injuries to his ribs probably made it near-impossible, anyway—and just glanced over at Noctis.

But Noctis shook his head no. "I think the energy it'd take for me to get out of the chair without killing myself would make it more comfortable if I stood," he admitted, resting his good hand on the back of Prompto's chair and breathing a heavy sigh. "So, what's this about? We're not splitting up again, are we?" His tone was hesitant, dismal. But it was a genuine fear. He'd tried to play it off in his mind, but he'd just gotten comfortable. He really didn't want it to be taken away.

Weskham shook his head no. "Of course not, lad." His smile was an attempt at reassurance, but the look in his eyes said that while it wasn't _that_ , it was something else bad.

"What's up, Wesk?" Gladio asked, his uninjured hand flexing, then retreating. He looked at Ignis with a sad longing in his eyes, and it was only then that Noctis noticed that they weren't sitting as close to one another as they usually were. They were still beside each other, but they weren't seeking out any and all contact possible like they usually did in these situations.

Noctis suppressed a flash of worry, but in the back of his mind, he allowed himself to be convinced that it was because they were both hurt. Ignis' wrists were both injured, as was his knee, and he had a concussion, too. He probably didn't want to be touched, right? While he'd never heard of that happening with Gladio _before_ that didn't mean, by any stretch of the imagination, that it was impossible. Tearing his attention away from his friends, he pushed those thoughts away. He was probably worrying about nothing. That was what finally brought his attention back to Weskham.

The older man sighed, taking his monocle down and wiping it clean with a cloth he kept in his pocket. "Unfortunately, it's hardly a pleasant cause." He rubbed at his eyes, before putting his monocle back on and then turning to look at the group again. "Last night, while you were dealing with the doctors, Lunafreya came to us with a concern."

With a nod, Cor picked the conversation up from there. "Most of us were in a pretty big frenzy last night, so we weren't paying too much attention to our Hour Twenty-Five clocks." His lips drew downward in a deeper frown. "When we got back to the compound after the whole situation at the Disc was the first chance we really had to look." He glanced over at Luna.

Luna looked down at the table, and then up at Cor. "At first, we thought that it may have been a glitch of my watch alone," she started.

"What might have been a glitch?" Iris asked. 

Aranea nodded. "Yeah, don't be cryptic. We need to figure out what the hell's goin' on, so we can plan for it."

Placing a calming hand on Aranea's shoulder, Cindy shook her head. "Easy, Nea. They're gettin' there. Bettin' it's a pretty serious story if it's got Cor an' Weskham worried." She turned to look at Luna, an encouraging smile crossing her face.

The return smile Luna gave was weak. Nyx's hand sought hers, squeezing it reassuringly, and she breathed deeply and forced herself to continue. "I apologize. I wasn't trying to be cryptic, Aranea. I simply was unsure how to expand without causing panic." She looked around the room, but faltered. Obviously, she still didn't know how to continue.

Weskham spoke up for her, though. "Perhaps it may be easiest to have everyone take a look at their Hour Twenty-Five displays."

Confusion etched itself through Noctis' features, and he looked from Weskham to Luna, who nodded in confirmation. Raising his wrist, he glanced at the small display on his watch, fully expecting to see it resting on the twelve, like it always was up until Hour Twenty-Five. However, that was what he saw at all. Noctis' eyes sprang open almost painfully wide, when he realized that no, the hand wasn't on the twelve. It wasn't even on the one. The hand rested on the two, completely frozen, like that was where it was _supposed_ to be. It wasn't, though. Hour Twenty-Five was only supposed to be an hour long, not an hour and ten minutes.

No. No way this was possible. If Hour Twenty-Five had been around since the beginning of time, and hadn't changed in all the time it _had_ been around, how was it suddenly longer? Swallowing a lump in his throat, he looked down at Prompto, who was still staring at his watch.

Ignis broke the silence that had filled the room. "Is it possible," he spoke, his voice quiet, more than likely in an attempt to prevent his brain from rattling too much, "that the crystals malfunctioned?"

"All of them?" Aranea asked. "At the same time?"

A soft chuckle, devoid of humor but slightly amused at the same time, was Ignis' reply. "Yes, I suppose that is a touch far fetched, isn't it? I apologize. My mind is... a little foggy," he admitted, turning his head down to glance at where his hand rested on the arm rest of the chair.

Noctis watched as, tentatively, Gladio reached out and placed a hand on Ignis' shoulder. Ignis turned his head, looking at Gladio's hand, and then placed his hand on top of Gladio's in a soft touch. Good. Maybe Noctis had been worried for nothing. He turned to look at Weskham, who was staring down at the books and paperwork on the table.

"We don't know enough about Hour Twenty-Five to know what's causing this," Cor confessed, heaving a heavy sigh. "But it's really, really troublesome."

Iris nodded. "I'll say!" she exclaimed. "Hour Twenty-Five is enough trouble without there being more than an hour of it! What can we do?" Her tone was stressed, and then she flinched and looked beside her at where Ignis was wincing. "S-sorry. I forgot, and I just..." She trailed off, her tone heavy with apology.

With a soft shake of his head, Ignis waved her apology. "Don't apologize, Iris. You have every right to be confused. I'm quite confused myself."

Sighing a heavy sigh, Weskham nodded his head. "None of the research that we have says anything about Hour Twenty-Five," he started.

"None that we can understand, anyway," Ignis countered. "Dr. Besithia is researching the fusion of daemons and organic beings. Who's to say that he isn't also researching the hour during which daemons are at their most vicious?" He glanced at Prompto in a silent apology, and even though Noctis stood behind Prompto, he could almost see the dejection on his friend's face.

Knowing the kind of research that his dad was doing had to be really, really tough on Prompto. Noctis knew that, deep down, Prompto still hoped that there was some good in his dad's heart. Even with everything horrible that the man had done, Prompto still had hope that they could be a family someday. Noctis also knew that Prompto knew how impossible it was, but that didn't stop him from hoping. Knowing all of the sinister things that his dad researched weighed on Prompto a lot. More than it had any right to, and it made Noctis sad. Noctis' uninjured hand found Prompto's uninjured shoulder and he squeezed gently, a show of support.

The miserable and sad look that Prompto gave him in return had him wanting to insist on ending the meeting right then and there so he could give Prompto the hug he deserved, but he didn't. Not only because he didn't really have the authority in the group, but also because they were both so sore and miserable, and hugging would hurt. He did brush his thumb gently along Prompto's shoulder, though. A tiny flash of satisfaction crossed his face at how that managed to bring the smallest ghost of a smile to _Prompto's_ face. It wasn't a real smile, but it didn't have to be. Noctis didn't _expect_ it to be.

Dragging his attention back to the matter at hand was Gladio's voice. "So, what're we supposed to do? We can't figure anything out and it ain't like half of us are in the position to walk around and seek answers, right?"

Aranea nodded. "Yeah, and we wouldn't even know where to start. Can't even start with Prom's old man, honestly. Or his brother. Neither of 'em are in Hammerhead anymore. Verstael's in Niflheim, somewhere, and Loqi's who the fuck knows or cares where. All we have is a metric ton of research that we don't know how to decode beyond a word here and there," she shrugged.

"Sounds to me like we're up Shit Creek without a paddle," Crowe remarked, frowning as she stared at her watch. "Not like that's anything new."

Huffing a humorless laugh, Nyx added, "tack that on to the fact that there's still no answer to any of the questions we had before. Why Verstael wanted Prompto's blood. And Noct's blood. And the daemon selves and aeons and how they tie to us and you guys' folks. How did Noct even _get_ his aeon without going through any of the stuff the rest of us did? We know nothing. Like, nothing..." He huffed a slow breath.

Ignis stared at the table for a few second, but then he turned slowly, gingerly, toward Nyx. "There must be answers in all of the documentation I have. Somewhere. If it _is_ there? I will find it. I promise all of you," he insisted, turning his head from Nyx to look at everyone else around the table.

"Igs, please. You should be resting," Gladio pointed out, his tone exasperated, like it wasn't the first time he'd pointed that out. "Especially..." He paused, trailing off and looking away from Ignis quickly, "especially after last night. Please take it easy for a few days."

An annoyed noise escaped Ignis' throat, and he slowly shook his head no. "It's hardly like I'm suggesting that I run around in the field, Gladio. I have the research, and I presume that I will be confined to the compound for the foreseeable future, am I incorrect?" His gaze went to Weskham and Cor.

Cor nodded. "Well, yeah. All five of you will. Trying to fight will only make it worse..." His tone was loaded, like there was more he wanted to say, but he was holding back.

Ignis hummed his agreement. "Precisely. Confinement does not put an end to my usefulness, however," he answered, a determined scowl on his face. "I will research as much as I am able. Every encryption has a solution." As soon as the words escaped, he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, like he'd agitated his head a bit.

"Don't overdo it, Ignis," Weskham offered gently. "I truly understand that you wish for answers. We all do. Working yourself to the brink of exhaustion when you're already injured, however, is not the way to get them." The tone was gentle, and maybe a little bit resigned to the fact that he was fully aware that when Ignis set his mind to something like this, there was little to nothing that could be done to stop him.

And it worried Noctis. Ignis was always bad at letting people worry about him, and he had a stubborn determination not to let people help when he took on projects like this. He had a certain way he did things, and usually, it was more than enough to get to the bottom of any and every mystery they faced. This time, it wasn't enough, and the stress on Ignis was already showing. Alongside that, there was already a slight wedge between Ignis and Gladio, and usually, Gladio was the only one who could make Ignis listen when he got like this. Noctis had to allow himself to believe that things weren't that bad.

Weskham sensed the heavy mood at the table and breathed a slow sigh. "In regard to what we'll do for now, unfortunately, it feels as though we have very limited options, other than to proceed as normal. The number of jobs we'll be able to take is somewhat limited right now, to the jobs that Iris, Crowe, Aranea, and Cindy can undertake, but for now, until we have a more solid answer, unfortunately, we're rather limited. Cor and I can't go back to fighting."

"No, definitely not," Luna agreed, her voice as determined as her face. "It's quite alright, Weskham. I would call it a vacation for those five, which they've certainly earned, but I suspect that it won't feel like one." She flashed a smile around the table, stopping at Nyx and then smoothing her fingers through his hair gently.

With a nod, Cor added, "we'll have to keep track of Twenty-Five, though. While we rest. See if it changes any further."

Cindy bit her lip. "Feels a li'l bit funny to be talkin' about vacations when y'all just dropped a giant bomb like that. This whole situation feels funny, honestly. Nothin' about it's settlin' right in my gut. I'm not sayin' I expect answers right now-" Her eyes rested on Ignis, and she tried to project comfort, "so don't work yerself harder than y'have to. Got me?"

Even Cindy was worried about Ignis. Someone who didn't know him that well, really, was worried about his well-being and how hard he was working himself. Cindy smiled gently at Ignis, but the smile quickly turned to a frown. She leaned into Aranea, when Ignis' only response was to duck his head just slightly. Noctis, too, sighed and stared down at the table miserably. He couldn't blame Ignis for wanting answers, not really. He wanted them, too. Just not so much that it would push Ignis like this. Still, he didn't push the topic anymore, and he _tried_ not to worry himself too much about it.

Weskham, sensing the shift in the demeanor at the table, turned to look around at the group of them, before turning his attention to Cor. The pair of them exchanged a silent nod, and then Weskham turned to look back at everyone. "I don't think we'll make much more progress with this matter today," he admitted. "Everyone is still sore and exhausted from last night's mission."

"Yeah," Cor agreed. "Go take a rest. All of you. Weskham and Iris will bring dinner to your cabins later, alright?"

Ignis sat a little straighter. "I can-"

But Iris shook her head no. "No, you can't," she insisted. "You're going to go and rest, and Crowe and me are going to check on you in a little while to make sure you're really resting and not looking over all that stuff in your room. Right?" She turned to Crowe, her eyes pleading for backup.

Crowe nodded. "I dunno about medical stuff, but logic tells me that doing research with a concussion is a pretty freaking bad idea," she added. "So, when we come in there, you better either be lying in bed and waiting for dinner, or actually sleeping. Got it, Brains?"

The threat wasn't really a serious threat, there was no intention behind it, and they all knew it. Still, it was good to hear a little bit of tough love. Maybe that was what it would take to make Ignis see how ridiculous he was being. Noctis turned his eyes back to Ignis, who was looking sheepishly at his hands and nodding dismally.

Gladio flashed Crowe a grateful expression, before slowly, gingerly, pushing himself up from his seat. "C'mon, Igs. I'll grab your crutches, and we can head back."

"You shouldn't be straining yourself so much," Ignis insisted, watching after Gladio as he gathered the crutches from where Ignis had leaned them against the wall. "But thank you." He pressed a gentle kiss to Gladio's cheekbone, right above a particularly deep cut.

To say that it was a relief seeing Ignis and Gladio show each other some form of affection after watching them argue so much was _beyond_ a relief. After a whole bunch of help getting Nyx and Prompto out of their chairs, the group split off to return to their rooms and relax. Or, at least relax as much as they could, with the news that Hour Twenty-Five was somehow not quite an hour anymore, looming over their head. Noctis sat slowly at the foot of the bed, and stared down at the cast on his arm, his mind a million miles away. Worries. About Hour Twenty-Five, and Ignis, and how this research was going to affect him. About the growing concentration of daemons that he'd noticed last night. About Prompto.

Honestly, the whole walk back, Prompto had been really, really quiet. He'd spent the whole time staring at the ground, and while it probably would have been easy to pass that off as him watching where he was going, Noctis knew better. He was miserable, and he had every right to be. Whatever his dad was doing, whether or not it had anything to do with Hour Twenty-Five, it had led them into the Disc and into the fight with those daemon selves and that behemoth. It had almost killed them. That had to feel pretty lousy. The minute that thought entered his mind, he lifted his head and caught Prompto's eye. Or at least, he tried to. Prompto stood on his crutches, with his head leaned against the door, and a soft shake in his breathing.

"Prompto?" Noctis asked, standing up with speed he probably shouldn't have been using. Immediately, he felt it in his ribs and, but he didn't care.

Prompto lifted his head, but didn't turn around. "I'm sorry. I just..."

Slowly, Noctis placed his good hand on Prompto's good hand, where he held onto his crutches. "Don't be sorry," he offered. "Are you okay?"

At first, it looked like Prompto was going to nod. But then, he shook his head no. "This... this was my dad. I mean, I know everyone knows and everything, but I... I _know_. I don't know how I know, but I know, and..." He trailed off from there, finally turning to face Noctis. Through the cracks in his glasses, Noctis could very clearly see the tears in his eyes, and it shattered his heart to bits.

It hurt like hell, but Noctis reached out to gently, loosely, wrap his arm around Prompto's waist. Prompto leaned into him, and it hurt even worse, but he ignored it. Especially when Prompto's good arm lifted to wrap around his waist in return. The crutch on that side hit the floor with a loud, clacking noise, which Noctis ignored in favor of letting Prompto cry against his shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Prom," Noctis insisted. "You couldn't have known. It's... it's not like you've been helping him or anything. And now you're here. And we'll figure it out."

With a glum nod against Noctis' shoulder, Prompto sniffled miserably. "I just... I always wanted to hope that there was some good in there. Somewhere. B-but... if he's doing all of this, if he did whatever happened to that behemoth in the Disc?" He paused and raised his head, meeting Noctis' eyes again. "There's not, is there?"

Astrals, this sucked. As much as he wanted, _desperately_ wanted, to tell Prompto that he was wrong, that there was good in there somewhere and that Verstael wasn't a terrible human being, he couldn't. Instead, he just smoothed his hand along Prompto's back, and watched as his friend's face fell again.

"Don't answer that. I know the answer," Prompto murmured, heaving a heavy sigh.

Noctis carefully and gingerly led Prompto to the bed, where they both sat down. Both crutches were on the floor now, but Noctis would pick them up for Prompto later. "It doesn't matter, okay? He doesn't matter," he explained. "He's not you, and you're not him. You could never be him. Whenever we figure all of this out? Whenever we get down to the bottom of it all? You can _stop_ him, and prove how much better than him you are. Right?"

Prompto was silent.

For the briefest of seconds, Noctis considered kissing Prompto. As much as he _wanted_ to, though... he didn't want to taint the kiss with the feeling of everything that was going on around them. _Plus, you're a coward,_ he told himself. Instead, he reached across the space between them and took Prompto's good hand in his. "Because you are better than him. Okay? You're amazing, and you deserve... so much better than anything he ever gave you. We'll figure it out, Prompto. I promise." He managed a weak smile, hoping that Prompto would follow suit.

Much to Noctis' surprise, he did. It was small, not the bright and beaming smile that made Noctis' breath hitch in his lungs. It was something, though. It was honest, and that was all Noctis could expect at the moment.

In a tone that was equal parts relieved and still somewhat sad, Prompto said, "thanks, Noct." He breathed slowly, then winced. Noctis was sure that breathing had to hurt Prompto as much as it was hurting Noctis now, but he powered through it and reached their twined hands up to wipe his eyes with the back of his own hand. He didn't let go of Noctis' hand, but that was okay, because Noctis didn't want him to.

"D'you wanna take a nap?" Noctis asked.

Prompto nodded. "Y-yeah. I think I do," he chuckled a quiet note.

Finally, their hands separated, and the pair of them carefully maneuvered into position at the head of the bed. It wasn't like usual. They almost definitely wouldn't end up wrapped around each other like they'd grown into the habit of doing over the past few weeks. Despite that, though, Noctis' uninjured hand did find Prompto's, and he twined their fingers together once again. Noctis would get to the bottom of this, somehow, for Prompto's sake. No matter what it took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy. Next one's the last chapter of part one, and it's more of a short epilogue that will give you an idea of what to expect from part two!
> 
> It shouldn't take _too_ long for me to put that up, and then I dash right into work on part two! \o/


	38. Crystal (II)

_"Hello, Noctis. It has been quite some time in your world since I have last summoned you in your sleep."_

_Noctis looked around at Crystal Space, blinking in surprise. The wisps were as present as ever. More so, actually. It was difficult to see beyond the silver-white entities, as they danced and sprinkled around their sparkling dust. His eyes finally found Gentiana in the sea of silver, and blinked twice at her. She was right. It _had_ been a long time since he'd been summoned here without doing it on his own with the crystal. Why, though? The last time she'd summoned him here was because she had something important to tell him. Right after his first summoning. It felt like a lifetime ago, but really, it had only been a month, a week, and a handful of days._

_Still, he nodded. "It does, doesn't it? Is, uh... is there a reason you're summoning me today? 'Cause you only seem to do it when I'm out after I've had a really, really long past few days." That last part was added with a soft chuckle. It wasn't a malicious comment. Not at all._

_Gentiana, too, chuckled softly. "I apologize," she offered gently. "I do not intend for my timing to be so poor." She stepped a little closer to Noctis, and then her lips drew down into a frown. "It seems that you are injured," she commented._

_With a nod, Noctis sighed and glanced down at his arm. It was only then that he realized, though, that his ribs didn't hurt anymore. His arm didn't either, but it was still restrained by the cast. It was probably a bad idea to move it too much, he realized, because in the real world, it definitely hurt like hell. He and Prompto both hurt, to the point that they'd needed some pretty strong sleeping pills to be able to get any rest that night. The last of the sleeping pills from Prompto's dad had done the trick, and the pair of them were down for the count within a half hour of taking them. Here, though... here, he didn't feel anything. Nothing but a pleasant haze of numbness, and a comfortable amount of warmth._

_Outside of space and time, and free of pain. What was the downside to this place? Other than the fact that it had a worrisome lack of answers for somewhere that was supposed to be a place of reflection. Noctis hummed a deep and thoughtful him as he turned to glance at Gentiana._

_"I had a... well, I told you it was a long couple of days, right? I had to fight a giant daemonized behemoth and two daemon selves-"_

_She nodded. "Two more of your friends have awakened to their aeons, have they not?" she asked._

_There was that weird knowledge again. Honestly, Noctis was still endlessly curious as to how she always seemed to know what was going on in his world without him telling her, but he was past questioning it now. She didn't know anything more than he did, so he just allowed himself to roll with it. "Yeah. We got pretty knocked around in the process, though. We won't be fighting for awhile."_

_Gentiana hummed a note that was far more somber than he ever recalled her giving before. "A daemonized behemoth," she repeated._

_Nodding, Noctis continued. "Yeah. It was... really tough. And we were fighting with Gladio and Nyx's daemon selves the whole time. Let me tell you, getting hit by a shield is not a fun time." A quick sounding of awkward laughter followed, as he glanced up to look at her. When he saw her face, his laughter faded into silence._

_Her expression was soft and gentle, but stern and serious at the same time. "You defy death quite adeptly," she remarked._

_Yeah. It was a thing he'd had to learn to do, living in the world he'd lived in. "I mean, constantly defying death is way better than_ not _defying it. You can defy death as many times as you need to. You can only submit to it once. Right?" Forget the times that he wished that he could do just that. Forget the times, more specifically right after his father died and when his family split in two, that he'd_ thought _about doing just that. He hadn't, and he supposed, in that way, he'd defied death then, too._

_"You look concerned for another reason, as well," she pointed out, folding her hands in front of her and then raising her head to meet Noctis' eye again._

_Puffing out a breath from inflated cheeks, Noctis nodded. "We found out today, that Hour Twenty-Five is getting longer," he explained. "And because we're having a hard time figuring out the codes, or encryptions, or whatever they're called, that Verstael used in his journals, we're a little bit... we don't know how. We don't know how or why it's happening. But we think it has to do with him."_

_The look on Gentiana's face changed again, from contemplation to certainty. She looked up from where she'd been staring down at her feet, meeting Noctis' eye squarely, and then said, "you are correct." A couple of seconds passed, and she added, "I am not sure how I know this. I am not sure of much of anything these days, to be completely honest. I am, however, certain of the fact that the man you loathe so much, the man who has brought so much harm to your family, is behind what is happening in your world."_

_Every time Noctis felt like Gentiana couldn't surprise him any more than she already had, she went and proved him wrong. Knowing that Verstael was behind the extended Hour Twenty-Five was probably beyond what she should have been able to know, but somehow she _did_ know. She knew, and was confident enough to tell Noctis about it. Of course, that left him with the question of what he was supposed to do with that information._

_He bit his lip. "And you don't know how you know."_

_She shook her head no. "I do not," she answered._

_"And you don't know what I'm supposed to do about it, either." It wasn't a question, not really. She knew, but she didn't know how she knew, and she didn't know how to help beyond that. That was how these things went. There was no blame. It was just a simple fact._

_Frowning, she shook her head no. "Unfortunately, I do not. I have been pondering it for... quite some time. I can not seem to come to any kind of conclusion," she explained._

_"It's okay," Noctis answered. "Not your fault. So,_ did _you summon me here for something?" he asked her, idly fiddling with the strap to the sling that kept his arm in place._

_For a few seconds, Gentiana was silent, and eventually, she nodded. "I did. I wished to warn you that there is a torrential storm coming your way. Not in the literal sense. Soon, though, at some point in the near future, your newfound strength, as well as the strength of your allies, will be put to the test. You must be ready for it, Noctis. You must. Darkness may pull at you from every corner, but for the sake of yourself, your loved ones, and all of Eos, you must not give in." Unlike her usual tone, Gentiana was far more serious, far more solemn, when she spoke this time. She regarded Noctis with her lips pulled close together in a frown._

_A storm. Honestly, Noctis' whole life, until this point, had felt like a storm. Knowing that there was more storm coming kind of felt like more of the same. Still, if it was enough for Gentiana to feel like she needed to warn him, maybe he needed to be concerned. Especially if she told him not to succumb to darkness that pulled at him._

_Tipping his head down to look at the wisp-filled expanse beneath his feet, he sighed softly. "Is there any chance you know what the storm is? Where it'll be coming from?" It wasn't fair to ask. Gentiana was a guide, she wasn't some kind of all-knowing psychic. She didn't really even have all the answers about herself, so expecting all the answers about things in a world she had never even seen was wrong._

_Proving him right, Gentiana shook her head no and sighed a sad sigh. "Unfortunately, no," she admitted. "I only know that something is coming. I apologize, I-"_

_He shook his head no. "Don't sweat it," he said, reaching out to touch her shoulder._

_Admittedly, an odd feeling of familiarity took him over when his hand made contact. It felt sisterly and warm, very similar to how he always felt when he hugged Luna or when Luna hugged him. That... was weird. Most things in Crystal Space didn't feel. Touch always felt like nothing but pressure, but he'd never actually touched Gentiana before. He blinked at her, before retracting his hand back to his side, and shrugged his head to the side._

_"You do whatever you can to help me. Just knowing that something's on the way is a big help. It means I'm way more inclined to be ready. Right?" He shrugged his head._

_Gentiana still looked a little perplexed, a little distressed, but she nodded once, the smile coming back to her face. "I suppose so. Once more, you end up guiding me, when my sole purpose here is to guide you." She laughed a gentle, self-deprecating laugh, and then sighed softly. "Thank you."_

_He nodded and smiled. "It's no big deal."_

_After a few seconds of silence, Gentiana turned her head to look up into the air at all of the wisps, she breathed a soft sigh. "There is one more thing I must tell you. I admit that, for your past few visits, I have struggled with the decision about whether to impart this particular bit of knowledge to you, but I feel..." she paused, "I feel that it is time. It is information that I have only recently learned, but crucial information that I feel is of vital importance to you-" She paused, "and maybe to me, as well." It was another of those 'things Gentiana said' that looked like it was perplexing her as much as it was perplexing him._

_"What do you mean?" he asked._

_She met his eye again. "I was not the original Crystal Space guide," she confessed._

_All Noctis could do was blink at first. "Wh-"_

_"I'm not sure who. Or what, or why. Or how long I have been here," she cut him off, her eyes falling to the would-be floor. "I do, however, know that I am not supposed to be the one guiding you. There is a force, an unseen and unknown force, keeping your true guide from appearing. They would have far more answers than I would. They would know many of the things that I cannot explain to you."_

_Noctis gaped, wide-eyed, at her. "I'm supposed to have another guide. Do you think this force is trapping you here, then? That you... that you have another purpose?" he asked her._

_The only answer Gentiana gave was a single, somber nod._

_Information swirled in Noctis' mind, and he clamped down hard on his lower lip, trying to sort it all out. What did any of this mean? Another guide. Who could they possibly be? Gentiana was great, and she did the best she could possibly do with the information she had, and this whole time, there was someone else who could have been making her life—or unlife... whatever she had—easier for her? Noctis suddenly wanted nothing more than to help her find out exactly why she was sealed here and who had done it._

_"Is there any way I can help you?" he asked her._

_For a few seconds, there was silence. Then finally, after looking at the new wisps that this new revelation had brought forth, she looked at him and sighed softly. "I am not certain," she confessed. "I wish I was, but..."_

_Scratching a hand through his hair, and once again, only feeling the pressure of his hand, he shrugged his head to the side and said, "I don't know if there's anything I can do to help, on my side, you know? But... I can ask. Weskham. And Cor. Maybe Ignis, when he heals up a little bit." And if he ever managed to get his head out of the research that he was already doing._

_Gentiana smiled sadly. "You are a kind soul, Noctis. It is a shame that you live in this world that is so beset with darkness," she told him._

_With a shrug, Noctis smiled back. "It has its good points. My friends. My family." Prompto. Prompto was one of the biggest bright spots to ever come into his life. But he didn't say that aloud. "When things are good, they're really, really good, and it makes the bad bearable. I hope you get to see it someday." If she wasn't supposed to be here, it was all the more unfair that she was stuck here like this._

_"As do I." A couple of beats of silence, and Gentiana breathed a soft sigh. It was sad but soft, and she had the gentle smile right back on her face after it faded. "Now. The time has come for you to return to your world, Noctis. Please do not forget my warning. Do not forget that, when darkness pulls at you, you can always turn to the light and it will pull you to safety."_

_Darkness. Could she possibly have meant the extension of Hour Twenty-Five? The whole world was full of darkness, honestly. Daemons were darkness. Sadness was its own form of darkness, and that more or less ran around rampant throughout the whole world. Some nights, even some_ days _, it seemed like sadness ran more rampant than happiness. He didn't get a chance to ask—not that it mattered, because he was sure that she didn't know—or to say anything else, really, before he felt the all-too-familiar white-shift of Crystal Space fading. The last thing he remembered seeing before it faded completely was a concerned, sad expression on Gentiana's face._

Noctis woke suddenly, though he didn't startle awake. It wasn't like the feeling of waking from a nightmare, where he wasn't sure if he was still dreaming. It was never like that in Crystal Space, though. Prompto still slept soundly, knocked out by his father's sleeping pills, with his hand loosely wound around Noctis', and that was really the only thing that kept him in place. Well, that and the fact that now that he was awake again, his ribs and arm ached.

In the silence, he found himself thinking back on what Gentiana said. Darkness. Look to the light.

Well, if anything was light in his life, it was Prompto. Everyone, of course, was some sort of light. All of his friends and loved ones held their own special light in his heart. Prompto, though, was different. Special. Ever since Prompto had walked into his life on that train over a month ago, there was never a time when Noctis felt truly alone. Even his aeon, even Carbuncle, was a little bit of light incarnate in a world full of darkness. Was Prompto the light he was supposed to look to, to pull him from darkness? He couldn't know for sure, of course, because he didn't even know what the darkness _was_ , but it didn't matter. Looking _away_ from Prompto was harder than looking to him.

Whatever the darkness was, Noctis was pretty sure that Prompto was his light. The tiniest smile crossed his face as, in the vague bits of light that shone through the edges of the curtain, he traced contours of Prompto's face with his eyes. Closed eyes, with soft lashes concealing the lower lid from view, barely kissing the tops of his cheekbones. Freckles, barely visible in the near-darkness, dusted his cheeks and nose, which sloped perfectly, angling down toward his lips. His lips. So many times, Noctis had come so close to kissing him. So many times, he'd chickened out.

 _The next time you get a chance,_ he thought to himself, his eyes still on Prompto's lips, _take it._

That aside, though? Yeah. Prompto was his light. The light that finally came to him after a year of sadness and loneliness. Prompto had _already_ pulled him out of darkness, more than any one person should ever have to for anyone else. He never complained, though. He always seemed willing, _happy_ , to stay at Noctis' side. 

A tiny smile crossed Noctis' face. His light. He was lucky as hell. Right now, things were okay. Not great, but okay. When they weren't, though? He'd be okay. As long as he had his light.

With that thought in mind, and a gentle-but-painful breath filling his lungs and pressing just slightly against his sore ribs, Noctis settled in to try and get a little bit more sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOO BOY, YOU GUYS. It was a heck of a ride, wasn't it? Here we are, more than 165,000 words later, rounding out the first installment of the Darkness Around The Sun universe!
> 
> I really just want to thank every single one of you who read through this chapter by chapter and read, whether you left comments or not! I expected it to be one of those things that the fandom kinda ignored, because it's a little niche, and probably only appeals to a fraction of the FFXV fandom. I never expected to get this kind of response! Gotta admit, that's more or less what kept me going after my super long break that I took back in April/May/June!
> 
> Now, though, with part one done, and part two (and three, maybe?) pretty well-plotted out in my head? I'm _so stoked_ for this universe. I have huge plans, and I hope you'll all stick around to see where I plan to go with it!
> 
> SUPER SPECIAL THANKS go to [nicoleiacross](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/pseuds/nicoleiacross), for always being my sounding board for whatever madness enters and exits my mind, as _well_ as taking the wheel and running with it for not just one, but _two_ companion pieces. Second special thanks goes to [IntoThePensive](http://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoThePensive) for encouraging me to write this back in the beginning! Hope you get the chance to read the rest of it eventually, love!
> 
> I hope to see you guys around when I start part two, which should be _pretty darn soon_ , since I already know exactly how I want to start it! Feel free to give me a follow on [tumblr](http://heyjealousyyy.tumblr.com/), if you want updates!
> 
> See you all (very) soon,  
> heyjealousy
> 
> PS: Here's the [playlist](http://heyjealousyyy.tumblr.com/post/164270271280/via), as requested!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Echoes in the Dark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11412138) by [nicoleiacross](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/pseuds/nicoleiacross)
  * [Different Side](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11433297) by [nicoleiacross](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/pseuds/nicoleiacross)




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